


City Street Lights

by darkmochecoffee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Escort Service, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Introspection, KaiSoo - Freeform, KrisHo - Freeform, M/M, Mild Smut, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Themes of prostitution, Unrequited Love, fem!suho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmochecoffee/pseuds/darkmochecoffee
Summary: Kyungsoo always falls for all the wrong people, and this time it is Kim Jongin.¤Yifan is a fanciful hedonist, Junhee is his match.(In which Kyungsoo belongs to an Escort service and calls himself a glorified prostitute and Jongin does not know how to deal with his misplaced feelings for a married man. Yifan and Junhee's romance blooms in the sideline)





	1. one

Jongin knew that he was not the type of man who wanted to be tied down. He had just turned twenty-six and he truly paid no heed to his friends who were getting married, starting their own families, settling down per se. Jongin truly had no idea when he'd like to settle down. Throughout his teens and way past into his glorious early twenties, it had become quite a disgusting habit of him to go from one person to the next, leaving a trail of broken hearts and tears blazing through his path.

He was not proud of it, if he were being scornfully honest with himself. Jongin did not like hurting, or in his case, downright using people for his mere personal satisfaction. He'd always justify his doings by religiously reminding himself that he always made it clear in the beginning: no emotions just the physical and they will, without fail, agree to his whims and Jongin would always find himself fucking a random a person he will not remember. It's as if shedding and tearing at another person's clothes could be akin to how temporary it all felt to him.

 There are times though when a kind of miracle falls upon him and he'd find himself gracious enough to ask the night's conquest into a lavish dinner the next day. They would go on long walks and hushed conversations with wine and all the nine yards. They'd always end up in bed, that was a given but what Jongin equates to mere slow fucking would be like 'making love' to his partner and that's when everything goes to hell. Jongin's gut would plummet at the thought that he did not want anything to do with whomever he was with because he'd been sated, that slow burn in his chest doused and he was done. 

Jongin was not really sure why he does it on a basis that held no pattern. Maybe he does it for satisfaction, or simply because he wanted to feel another person's soul and fuel his own dying one.Because he had this gaping hole in the middle of his chest that slowly ate away at his sanity from time to time so he distracted himself with things such as true intimacy, a test drive for a relationship, a demo for love? Who knows?

Or maybe he does it because he was just another lonely soul who hid behind a mask so pretentious it was almost hysterical. Maybe he does it because of Lee Taemin, a man he liked to think he's been in love with for as long as he could bloody remember, a man who'd never love him back, because Taemin was in love with someone else and Jongin was witnessing it happen right before his very eyes.

 Taemin kissed his new bride in front of his family, friends, most especially in front of Jongin because he was the fucking best man. Jongin tried to smile even thought he was truly unraveling. He wanted to scream Taemin's name, beg for his love if he must, although he knew the universe did not work like that.

It was the most horrifying torture, and it hurt so bloody much, Jongin will do anything to stop it from slowly devouring his sanity, or what is left of it.

But Taemin looked so …happy. That gleam in his eyes was ephemerally present as he gazed onto this beautiful woman that was his newly wedded wife. Jongin tried to smile as he excused himself, proceeded into the washroom and sobbed into his fist.

 

//

 

"Mr. Wu will be here again tonight."

Kyungsoo looked up from the sink and continued to pat at his crisp looking suit, the kind that hung by the dozen on the bargain aisles at some department store. It was woefully cheap but he was glad that his short stature would make look anything good on him, and hey, he was on a tight budget and because of the nature of his job, it truly did not matter. After all the clothes will always end their sad fate on some floor and the rest was history.

Jinri sighed as she fixed her hair, "I hope, I'd snag one of them. My landlord's tossing me out if I don't have rent money by tomorrow. I'm desperate."

Ah, the sad life they live. Even if they were paid much more than a regular street hooker, they still suffer the general madness caused by this unending whirlwind of bills, bills and more bills. Kyungsoo sometimes ruminated his life choices before he decided to become a glorified prostitute but this particular task gave him a most award winning headache so he bans it out of his mind most of the time. It helped, well kind of.

"Just sway that ass Jin."

"Gee, I hope it works this time. Anyway, we need to get going, those bills will not pay themselves."

With a short laugh, Kyungsoo followed the lady out of their shared dressing room.

 

 

Black Rose, at its forefront, was a restaurant. One noticeable difference though, was the fact that all its waiters and waitresses are most incredibly beautiful, quite well-mannered and possessed redeeming qualities past what a regular waiter usually embodied.

Of course there was very discreet 'entertainment' offered. Pleasant conversations, while the 'waiter' gave the customer experimental (and quite arousing) touches and obscene pleasantries hushed. No one ever noticed, but if in case it goes heeded, one should only need to walk into the oddly placed bar counter and ask for the particular waiter or waitress, add in an odd drink for the facade.

 The waiters go quite high, but they only ever get a portion of that cold cash in their monthly salaries, it was a decent establishment after all.

But really, who the fuck were they kidding? They were no different from those who found their living on the streets. They were just high class hookers who talked elegantly and fucked (or gets fucked) real good. Kyungsoo always thought even in this place, where it reeked ostentatious wealth, the hidden grime and filth were glanced upon and ignored.

Such is the world.

 

 

The man was handsome, so incredibly handsome and quite obviously wasted. His tie was missing, and his hair was an obsidian mess. Kyungsoo found himself staring, it would not be bad to cap the night off with this man. A slow tumble on bed. He imagined the feel of satin sheets, or maybe Egyptian cotton, a few glasses of wine. Kyungsoo would appreciate that, at least he got to take his mind off the fact that he was about to seduce some stranger with thoughts of being on bed with the same stranger all for added cash, which he badly needed.

They were sitting around one of those tables that successfully hid them from view, a kind of laughable 'privacy' if Kyungsoo was asked of his opinion of it. The 'privacy' only gave these customers, who stank of wealth and money, more leeway to grope and ogle the most superficially beautiful 'servers' Black Rose offered. If they were married, and unsatisfied with their lives, they come to this place seeking a kind of empty comfort. Kyungsoo almost pitied them, as if he was not one those who provided said, empty comfort.

Jinri was already on the job, focused on getting her rent money as she slid her palm with barely concealed intent down the back of a tall, handsome man. Her efforts were showing, as she smiled quite saccharinely, although the man on the receiving end looked like he was not getting affected.

"Jongin." Said the man, shoving Kyungsoo's intended target away from his sinewy body. Jongin laughed drunkenly as he chugged straight out of the expensive wine bottle. Jinri's client rolled his eyes. "Listen Jongin, acting like a deranged teenager will not make you forget about Taemin. And at this rate you're going to poison yourself with alcohol."

"T-Taemin?" The tanned man slurred his neck wildly craning from side to side. "Yifan, w-where's my Taetae."

The look on Yifan's face was priceless and in that moment, Kyungsoo brought it upon himself to intervene, plus Jinri was already beckoning (or begging) Kyungsoo with her eyes. Kyungsoo reached the customer's table, smile already perfected and plastered on his face. "How may I help you tonight, Sir?"

Jinri's target suddenly eyed him up and down before turning to the tanned man across the table who was dancing an elaborate arabesque with his fingers. "I want you to accompany him." Yifan gestured, "He currently resides in the penthouse of Imperial Palace Seoul, keycards and wallet should be in his pockets. Feel free to demand your…err…payments when he's sobered up. Don't worry, he'll pay."

Well that was quite straightforward, Kyungsoo thought. Clients usually go for a very subdued request which all equated to the same things and Kyungsoo found that disgustingly hypocritical, he appreciated this frankness.

Without the slightest change in his groomed expression, Kyungsoo acquiesced with a crisp “Alright, sir."

Finally, Yifan turned to Jinri who was fidgeting on her heels at the corner, quite awkwardly. The handsome man gave her a small smile and said, "And you can come with me."

The smile on her face screamed, yes rent money!

 

//

 

Jongin was quite heavy, Kyungsoo realized as he lugged the man into the obnoxiously opulent lobby of Seoul Imperial Hotel. Earlier, Yifan had paid for Jongin in the restaurant, all the while seething and complaining that Jongin was such a problematic friend. Kyungsoo was secretly laughing at the sidelines.

Somehow a few minutes after stepping into the lobby, Jongin had suddenly become partially lucid. He stared at Kyungsoo through his messy fringe and said "Hi" without a single trace of recognition on his face.

Kyungsoo smiled back, not knowing what to do. They were inside the elevator now and the operator was giving them uncomfortable looks which Kyungsoo managed to ignore. When they're on the top floor, Jongin was able to sway his way out letting himself wander aimlessly before almost crashing into one of the expensive looking China that flanked the double doors to the penthouse. Kyungsoo was upon him immediately, sniggering quietly at the situation and to himself. He'd dealt with drunken clients before but all of them seemed to know what Kyungsoo was, and the escort was not sure if his customer was feigning ignorance or was downright oblivious.

The doors opened and Kyungsoo surveyed the place. The penthouse, like its owner, reeked of money.  Soft black carpets, sophisticated furniture and floor to ceiling windows. One wall was made completely transparent and Kyungsoo reveled upon the sight displayed to him. Hell, he thought, if the night is going to suck big time at least the place was good.

As he was staring at the precipice of Seoul's booming night life, Jongin, whom Kyungsoo had momentarily forgotten, had both of his arms wrapped around Kyungsoo's waist, his full plush lips pressed upon the skin of Kyungsoo's neck. They were just standing there for a few short minutes and Kyungsoo was not sure what the man wanted,  so in one experimental stroke Kyungsoo moved so that he's pressed on his client's front, his lips on the man's collar bones, his fingers weaving through and disconnecting the links on Jongin's red dress shirt.

Jongin blew hot air onto his neck breathing a shallow, almost pleading "Taemin." Kyungsoo almost shivered but had not ceased his movements. He was used to being called random names. Sometimes he would even coax a pathetic mewl out of some man whilst the client moaned a woman.  Whether it was the wife, the girl friend, Kyungsoo would never know because it used to horrify him to such a considerable extent. He had loathed it before, back when he was a fidgeting man —a boy — who had enough stupid courage to give his body away for some stranger to use. Funny how starvation can be such a catalyst to one continuous, spiral downfall. He's five years into this business now and he frankly could not bring himself to give a flying fuck anymore. Long has he resigned to the truth: he was a prostitute, a glorified one, but a prostitute nonetheless. And it was not glamorous but it provided a roof above his head, clothes on his back and most importantly it fed him.

Kyungsoo always counted his blessings.

The escort felt his head tilt back, Jongin was pulling at his hair, intent on landing a sloppy, inebriated kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips, however Kyungsoo turned his head, Jongin's lips landing on the side of his mouth.

 

Kyungsoo pushed Jongin onto the carpeted floor and instructed a quiet "No kissing." to the drunken man who did not look like he understood what was happening. There was a vacant look on Jongin's eyes and Kyungsoo fought down the urge to probe why. He was on top of the client, his legs bracketing Jongin's thighs and he should be getting turned on, not act like he was allowed to get curious and care. Kyungsoo slowly gyrated his hips as he slowly descended on Jongin, trying to slowly invoke the necessary reaction but to no avail, Kyungsoo felt like he was seducing a fucking log.

With a sigh, the escort unhinged himself from his client and stood up, straightening his clothes. Jongin was staring at him, and Kyungsoo felt the tendrils of shame, something he has not felt in what seemed like a life time, creep upon him like ice poured on his spine. Kyungsoo looked away, found himself a telephone and summoned room service for a kettle of Darjeeling tea.

"What should I do with you?"

Kyungsoo, stared at his client who was still sprawled on the dark carpet. The escort stooped down, heaved Jongin up and pushed him into one of the plush love seats.

The doorbell to the unit went off and Kyungsoo lets the waiter into the vicinity with his prized Darjeeling tea.

"Jongin-ssi." Kyungsoo slapped the man on his cheek, all the while thinking how absurd the situation had become. Jongin snapped his eyes open and Kyungsoo almost withered under his stare.

Kyungsoo had not seen such prolific pain, so profoundly displayed on the canvas of Jongin's face. No cognizance appearead on the man's countenance, no apparent reaction to Kyungsoo's general existence. It was like he was not staring at Kyungsoo but at something or someone who was slowly sliding a blade under his skin.

The escort turned to pour tea into the fragile porcelain cup. He handed it to Jongin who took the cup with unsteady fingers.

"Who are you?"

And Kyungsoo would have answered somewhere along the lines of, 'Whatever you want it to be, babe' But he felt that it was not perfunctory at such a situation.

"My name is Kyungsoo. Please drink the tea Jongin ssi."

Jongin nodded, eyeing the tea with that same vacant expression.

"I've been paid for you by your friend Yifan, I'm an escort."

Jongin laughed dryly as he placed the emptied porcelain on the table. The tea seemed to have alleviated some of the alcohol on his system because he looked and sounded a little less intoxicated.

"He's a terrible friend, don't you agree?"

Kyungsoo did not answer, he barely even moved. "Do you still need anything?"

The client kept his lips sealed for a few excruciating moments and Kyungsoo almost wanted to flee.

 

"I'm in pain." Jongin then said in a voice barely above a whisper. Kyungsoo suddenly found himself holding his breath. "What do I do with all this…pain, Kyungsoo ssi?"

Kyungsoo stared into those vacant eyes and did one thing he was good at. He wound his arms around Jongin's neck, pulling the man down on top of him.

"I'll distract you."

And there was this one serene moment where Kyungsoo felt a sudden warmth envelop his being as he held the unmoving man in his arms, a warmth that was soon doused when Jongin trailed savage kisses down his neck. 

And that night, in such an opulent hotel room he'd let himself be used like a twisted lover. His client fucked into him with such a quiet intensity that Kyungsoo could feel all these pent up agression, hate and pure rage burn him from the inside out. But even without saying anything, Kyungsoo knew that his client imagined someone else writhing under his touch because even despite the almost violent intensity of their session, Jongin kept his eyes closed and touched Kyungsoo like he wanted to memorize every dip and curve of his body, always pressing down wanting to fuse their lips and all these Jongin did as he mutely sobbed on the process.

 

Fucking and crying to lessen pain —Kyungsoo thought later on when he's studying the marks on his body —must have been therapeutic.

 

The escort left the suite with his crinkled shirt and his pockets empty. He did not feel like demanding for payment, not when the gaping hole on his chest reminded him of this misplaced shame that had wrapped itself around his neck.

Thoughts of Taemin plagued Kyungsoo's mind until he reached his deplorable apartment.

Who are you?

 

//

 

The sound of his alarm jostled Jongin awake. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused. There is telltale pounding in his head and his lower back protested in pain.

So much for wasting the night away.

Jongin heaved himself up, clutching at his head in pain as he did. He belatedly noticed his stark state of undress and pondered what had become of the night prior when sudden thoughts of round eyes, a memorable face and full lips invaded his mind. There were no traces of the man left, like he had not been there at all.

 

He remembered the name, Kyungsoo, and other than that nothing else. The night was a blur, truthfully, there had been tea, Jongin cannot remember if it was Earl Gray or Chamomile, could have been Darjeeling. He'd told the man something, he guessed, something that consequently boiled down to them fucking on the bed. Jongin grimaced.

And of course there was Taemin, his bestfriend who had married yesterday and could no longer be Jongin's object of futile affection. At this thought, Jongin felt a sharp pierce of pain at the back of his head, or maybe it was his chest again, the gaping hole on it to be exact. It felt like someone had cut him open and left him there all bloodied, gasping for his life like it was dangling off of something he could not reach.

Jongin eyed his phone on the table as he needed quite the distraction, he decided to call Yifan. It was ten in broad daylight and Yifan would probably scream bloody murder at him but Jongin hardly cared. He dialed, seven rings resonated in his ear before the sound of rustling sheets and a soft voice (who was definitely not his best friend) could be heard.

"You're such a bastard." Jongin greeted once Yifan's gruff 'hello' followed.

 _"Jongin?"_ A yawn, followed by, _"What? Did you enjoy the gift I sent you home with last night?"_

Jongin could hear the smirk in Yifan's tone. "No, I felt like dying and what you do is send me home with a random prostitute. Fuck you Fan, really. You're a terrible friend."

_"You're welcome, Nini."_

Jongin rolled his eyes. "But really, the man didn't even wake me up or something. I bet your cats, he didn't even take a single penny."

 _"Really Jongin, you're bringing my pets into this? My beatiful babies? Who's the terrible friend now?"_ Jongin scoffed, _"But you did fuck, didn't you?"_

"That is out of the question, Jiaheng."

_"Well tough luck for you then. Because I was hoping that you could take your mind off Taemin for a while because the next few days will push you to your wits' end."_

"Why?”

_"Because Taemin and Joohyun are merging their entertainment companies, and you my friend, is required to attend. And no buts. This is for business do some mingling or something."_

"I won't miss anything in a mundane event, Yifan. I can't face him right now."

_"South Korea’s biggest entertainment agencies are merging and you deem this as not important? Pardon my French, but are you fucking mental? What will you say to Taemin? 'Hey buddy, sorry I could not catch what might have been the biggest fucking event of your life because my little pathetic heart could not bear to see your face?' Huh, is that it? And don't get me wrong I love you, alright, you're like my brother from another mother but this undoubtedly pathetic pining over Taemin has got to stop. It's been fucking years Jongin, you need to quit doing this to yourself because we both know that nothing will come out of it."_

 

Jongin could have hissed at the words. Leave it to Yifan to quickly annihilate whatever Jongin planned to say to refute the crudely phrased statement. He's been friend’s with Yifan since they were mere toddlers and even until now, the older man was still truly frank enough to know how to string his syllables into sharp metaphorical knives that are no less sharper than physical blades. 

Jongin did nothing but sigh. "Wow, do thank you for such encouraging words Yifan. I needed that."

_"Sure you do. The Lees are holding some sort of dinner on private invitation in their Incheon estate after the ground breaking. And oh, bring a plus one. It would do some good on your image."_

Jongin hung up.

 

//

 

Kyungsoo gave the place a single sweeping once over before smiling to himself. He enjoyed his day job, it gave him some sort of peaceful serenity and it rejuvenated a quarter of his sanity.

The cafe was huge for an establishment that sold coffee and waffles. Painted in warm earthy tones of brown, orange and black it gave off a certain homey vibe. Students from the nearest Seoul University usually filled its wooden tables and worn couches.

During Kyungsoo's shift which fell from ten to eleven in noon, the place would not be usually as packed nor too empty. He liked his schedule too, because the amount of people acting as his meagre audience would not set his nerves into a fiery fit of anxiety.

The man sat on the barstool, idly tapping onto the microphone before him. He murmured his greetings and promptly started his acoustic set.

Kyungsoo's life used to revolve around singing.

Growing up, his voice had been praised, appreciated and loved to such an extent. They said, he'd trek the world with his voice alone, it would take him to wonderful places and people of all walks of life would pay to hear him sing.

And sure Kyungsoo believed it, it was not as fanciful if you were a child, barely fourteen and the world ahead of you. Then like a common horrible twist, his _eomma_ , the only person he's truly cherished, passed and with her, Kyungsoo's father too, well metaphorically. After his mother's death, Kyungsoo's father underwent a long process of constant self-loathing, endless mourning and succumbed to his depression two years after his wife.

After such events, Kyungsoo went scraping by on a day to day basis, he'd done his own portion of odd jobs and lived from one relative to the next. By the time he'd finished high school, he'd already been a waiter at Black Rose, but he had not been an escort until he turned twenty-two.  And the terms of the job stirred his morale but the grumbling in his stomach overpowered whatever dignity he thought he once had.

 

It was a shock, to understate things.

It sounded morbid to Kyungsoo back then, but he was twenty-eight this year and it felt like a lifetime had passed. 

"You sound perfect as usual." Taekwoon, the cafe manager, smiled at him as he descended from the stage. Kyungsoo returned the greeting with a small bow and a grin of his own. He got paid modestly to sing a thirty minute set every day but it was alright. At least Kyungsoo could still feel what it's like to have a dream.

 

//

 

Jongin stared at the small yet imposing edifice of the building and shivered.  Jongin had no idea where Yifan discovered all kinds of places in his unending search for beauty. Jongin thought it was too hedonistic and this, he's told Yifan right at his face. Yifan just shrugged and hid under his guise of "I can't help it Jongin."

Jongin really did not fare any better in the relationships department either but at least he felt even the slightest bit of remorse for his conquests whereas his friend did not, not until Yifan decided that dating was out of his expertise and ditched it all together in lieu of finding escorts and muses in the most unexpected places.

Maybe they were just overly privileged boys and Yifan saw it for what it is and Jongin had lots of misplaced feelings of self-entitlement.

The man entered the building and the place did not even give the simplest hint of its otherwise known promiscuity. Jongin occupied a table farthest from the entrance and sullenly surveyed the restaurant. The place had a high ceiling with wooden beams to which numerous crystal chandeliers and other light fixtures hang. The walls were painted a shade of cream with obsidian accents and some portions of the mosaicked marble floor are covered with a lush red carpet.

For such an extravagant looking place, Jongin wondered why they did not operate on reservation.

A menu on a red binder was handed to him and Jongin looked up and was slightly glad it was the man he's been looking for. Jongin smiled at the escort's slightly stunned expression before he stood up.

"Kyungsoo?"

"Yes." The man murmured, neutral expression now intact. "What can I help you with today, sir?"

Jongin stared at him.

"Well actually, I have a business proposition for you but can you step out for an hour or something? This place is oddly suffocating."

 

"I can." Kyungsoo looked good today, with plush lips and hair swept up in a carelessly charming way. It was a good thing that Jongin felt no unnecessary qualms toward his various bedroom conquests. Staring at Kyungsoo right now practically resembled like talking to a stranger with a name.

 "But you'll have to pay for it first."

Jongin raised a brow at that, nothing was even laid at his table why should — oh, right. Escort. Jongin merely nodded and paid a hefty amount for the man and Jongin truly did not know what to feel about that.

 

"I'm Jongin by the way, Kim Jongin. I'm twenty-six, do I call you hyung?"

Beside Jongin, the escort let out a short laugh and said, "Do Kyungsoo, and yes even though you look and reek of money and probably don't even need some petty reason to respect me, by all means call me hyung then. But what's this business proposition?"

Jongin steered the both of them inside a Subway joint and ordered two large pulled chicken sandwiches. Kyungsoo looked at the food to which Jongin just shrugged.

"I am required to attend a certain event and forced to bring a plus one but I'm currently at that point in my life where dating is hopelessly mundane and I need someone straightforward without pretense. What do you say?"

"Who exactly gave you the idea to come to the restaurant? Did you even remember what the hell happened between us last night?"

 

Jongin ruminated his answer as he munched on overly spiced chicken. "To be perfectly honest, I don't remember everything but I'm pretty sure we fucked at some point and I'm supposed to pay you but I didn't."

To Jongin's surprise and chagrin, Kyungsoo leaned back and scoffed. "Well that's just fucking grand."

"Excuse me?"

"I walked away last night because, believe it or not, you made me feel lower than what I already am and I told myself I could make do with the last strand of my dignity intact. Also, your friend paid enough, like what you did at the restaurant tonight."

"I'm sorry."

"Anyway, this business proposition of yours won't be free this time."

Jongin smiled at that, candidly studying Kyungsoo's sculpted features. "So do you agree to be my date?"

"Sure. How much are you willing to burn?"

"I don't know Kyungsoo. You tell me."

 

The escort grinned playfully, his eyes glinting in a sly manner. "Five hundred thousand won."

The answer was simply, "You got it." And Jongin truly basked at the look of complete flabbergast on Kyungsoo's face. "No fucking way." The man said, slowly swallowing a huge chunk of his chicken sandwich, "You're willing to pay me half a million won for one night?"

Jongin shrugged. "Yes, hyung. Do you want to make it a million?"

Jongin heard the man mutter a slightly inaudible "Fuck is wrong with this kid." strung with more profane language. Jongin just smirked.

"So do we have ourselves a deal?"

"Fuck, yes."

Jongin simply nodded, drowning his sandwich with sugar addled cola as he slid an embossed business card across the table to the other man. Kyungsoo glanced at the thing and asked. "What exactly do you do?"

"My family owns an entertainment distribution firm."

"Oh."

"So, is the day after tomorrow good? I'll fetch you at the restaurant."

"Okay."

"See you, Kyungsoo hyung."

 

//

 

"Damn, you got yourself the jackpot."

Kyungsoo glanced at his reflection and came to a realization that he hated how his hair looked. The escort raked it back with his fingers and painstakingly redid it. When that was a done deal, the man started to pace around the room, his eyes straying on the wall clock every few minutes or so.

"You don't understand Jin," Kyungsoo huffed, "I was completely joking when I told him I wanted half a million. And he reacted like the amount was nothing. He even wanted to give me the whole damn thing!"

"What's the problem then?"

"Jinri just think about it? Who the fuck would give out half a million won for some prostitute? This is just insane, maybe he's going to murder me and throw me on a ditch or something."

Jinri rolled her eyes at the man. "Kyungsoo you had drunken sex with him and came out pretty unscathed. Don't over think, maybe he's just willing to blow."

 

"Yeah, I hope so. I really need that money too."

"So go, don't waste it."

Kyungsoo merely nodded and exhaled unsteadily as his cellphone rang with a call from an unregistered phone number.

 The clock struck seven.

 

 

Kyungsoo always found Jongin handsome.

His expressions were closed off that night, no small grin or that slightly sad droop in his eyes, just nothing. It was familiar yet at the same time completely alien, and it almost jarred Kyungsoo. Yet he still looked too…gorgeous.

Kyungsoo glanced outside the passenger mirror, averting his gaze away from Jongin. "So where are we going?"

"Just…somewhere."

Kyungsoo brought his gaze back and landed a palm on the man's thigh. Jongin blinked at him.

"Relax. You're going to break your fingers off if you squeeze that wheel any harder."

Jongin eased his hard grip and exhaled.  Kyungsoo studied his features and decided that the tension in the car needed to be dissipated lest Jongin got both of them involved in an accident.

"Color."

It took a while for Jongin to answer. He only replied with a concise. "What?" Before Kyungsoo sighed.

"Let's play a word association game. I say one word and you answer with the first thing that pops into your head and then vice versa." The escort explained. "You're paying me half a million won for one night so it's appropriate that I get to know you so that I have information to blackmail you with, the moment you bail on me."

Jongin let out a shaky laugh. "It's purple. But I guess that's not really blackmail material right."

"So, we'll get there. It's your turn."

"Wine."

Kyungsoo answered, "I hate it."

"Too bad then, you'll be having lots of it tonight."

"Tough luck for me then. Anyway coffee."

"Americano."

 

"Cats."

"Hate them."

"Dogs."

"Don't like them."

They go back and forth asking indirect mundane questions until Kyungsoo probably knew Jongin's weirdest peeves and Jongin, Kyungsoo's favorite midnight snack every Tuesday when he did not work a shift at Black Rose.

So a few miles before they reached Incheon, Kyungsoo asked. "Dream."

Jongin was quiet then, and Kyungsoo knew that the question probably surprised or confounded the man, otherwise Jongin finally answered. "A swan lake ballet."

Kyungsoo wondered why Jongin gave him such reply but he could not because they were then pulling in front of a huge estate, a few miles off of the city's densely populated areas.

It was a long night.

 

//

 

Wu Yifan always had a thing for everything that is beautiful.

Growing up under the care of parents who were both successful artists in their own right, Yifan knew what was beautiful in a single glance and he fancy himself a connoisseur of all things that was superficially easy on the eyes. Ever since he could remember, Yifan had made it a personal mission to find things that held a certain grace in its existence and these things usually gave Yifan a most peculiar thrill. His fascination started with art, wine, architecture and then eventually to people. Yifan constantly craved for beautiful people, men and women alike.  Jongin had blatantly told him he was being a hedonistic bastard and maybe he was, he could not help it, especially not now that he's staring at this beautiful woman across the wide ballroom.

She wore a deep blue dress that cascaded in a muted shimmer to the floor. Her long platinum hair gathered in an intricate bun above her head, bared the narrow, sloping line of her shoulders and the pristine skin that held her skull. The woman turned and Yifan exhaled a breath he had not realized he'd been holding.

Her face exuded the kind of grace that reminded Yifan of Helen, as in Helen of Troy in the Iliad. The face that launched a thousand ships, the kind of beauty that could instigate a bloody war.

_Godfuckingdamn._

 

Yifan as per usual, found himself crossing the ballroom like he's being pushed by his own compelling urge. There's a flute of expensive champagne grasped in his fingers.

His mind was reeling.

When he's a few feet away from the lady, Yifan had smiled but the woman's face showed no signs of being charmed, Yifan was slightly alarmed because that smile usually set things into motion. Damn.

"Can the lady be bothered to dance?"

The blonde smirked, "Sure, since you asked nicely."

Well, that was a start. Yifan led her to the center of the ballroom where no one but two people occupied the expanse. Yifan could not be bothered by the lack of slow music and the woman kept her small grin without comment.

"I am Yifan." The man introduced as he swayed their bodies together. "And you are?"

"That's for you to find out, Yifan-ssi."

Yifan thankfully reigned in his expression at that answer. The woman was something else and maybe it was time Yifan indulged in a small game of cat and mouse.

After all Yifan always enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

"And when I do find out, can I take you to dinner?"

The woman chuckled quietly, stepping out of their slow dance to whisper directly into Yifan's pierced ear. "That's a question for another day."

Yifan stood there, quite dumbly as he stared at the woman's retreating figure.

 

//

 

Jongin had taken him to some sort of lavish "private” affair, Kyungsoo noticed as he glanced at the sprawling mansion. No one in South Korea (sans the President) lived in small Venetian styled castles like this, except when there's a need to show off property. Actually, even the overly affluent opted to reside in silent gated communities or expensive apartment towers.  Kyungsoo thought it must have been such a bother to equip the place with enough staff for one night.

But then again they were talking about some filthy rich people here. 

As they stepped into the ballroom, it was apparent that the event was all formal suit and tie. Women and men alike socialized in groups, talking in hushed voices. Kyungsoo noticed a lot of famous people, celebrities; Hallyu idols, singers and performers.

 

Kyungsoo stared down at his suit and silently thanked his deities that he had enough mind to take out his most decent (albeit out of fashion) suit to match the event. He grabbed Jongin's arm and forcefully wound it around his waist in a manner portraying more than a genial friendship.

Kyungsoo leaned in to whisper, "You'll be paying me half a million won to act like your date, but you should also do something."

Jongin gave him a pointed stare before viscerally relenting, Kyungsoo was right. The escort staged a pleasant smile and allowed Jongin to steer him to the group of young men making rambunctious noises that made a few heads turn to stare at them. The group collectively did not look like they could care enough.

"Sehun you hadn't told me you have a sister."

Kyungsoo recognized this one, it was Jinri's client from a few days back. The woman had eloquently told Kyungsoo how amazing he'd been, and that he gave her more than enough afterwards.

One man with curiously shaped lips quipped: "Everyone knows Sehun has a half sibling Yifan hyung, you're just too distracted to remember." as he studied the contents of his cylindrical champagne flute.

Beside Kyungsoo, Jongin unwound his arms and effortlessly picked up the champagne flute from the cat like man. "Junhee noona's back?"

"Just yesterday." Said the one, Mr. Wu had referred to as Sehun who turned his gaze at Kyungsoo "Hi, I'm Sehun."

Kyungsoo extended his arm to return the gesture and greeted back in a most impeccably, respectable manner "Kyungsoo. Pleasure to meet you."

Jinri's client spared him a glance and a small nod without saying anything. Kyungsoo was pretty sure the man had recogonized him from the restaurant and probably chose to not address it for Jongin's sake.

"But Sehun is an Oh, how am I supposed to know that he has a sister whose last name is Kim and could make Venus weep in shame. Sehun looks like a stick with a face."

"Excuse me?!" 

Sehun and the cat like man —Jongdae, as what he'd told Kyungoo earlier — rolled their eyes. "She's Sehun's half sibling. And FYI, Yifan everyone you wanna screw looks pretty to you, just lay off of Sehun's sister alright."

Yifan looked clearly insulted.

"You're not going to sweep her off her feet Yifan hyung, she's different and if you want to bed her I'd have to warn you that the queue is already too long."

Jongin laughed and Kyungsoo had to look away to school his surprise.

"Really." The man patted Yifan, "Kim Junhee? You've got your eyes on Kim Junhee, good luck Yifan."

 

Yifan grumbled “You're all worthless friends."

Kyungsoo, noticing that the friends are now grossly engaged in a conversation debating about how wholesome Yifan's intentions toward Kim Junhee, Kyungsoo found himself straying away from the group.

 

 

"Fancy seeing you here."

Kyungsoo's fingers froze upon hearing the voice. The escort slowly turned on his feet to regard the person who'd addressed him. Chanyeol stared back with the same expressive eyes Kyungsoo remembered.

"It's good to see you Yeol."

The tall man grinned back at him and Kyungsoo found himself transfixed on that same genial smile like the way he'd been overly attached to it —and to him — three years ago, back at a time when he should not. 

"Try the wine Soo, the champagne is terrible."

"I hate the alcohol at these kinds of events."

"I know you do." Chanyeol said when a petite man with loud burgundy hair came into view. The man smiled at Kyungsoo and extended a palm topped with beautiful long fingers.

"I'm Baekhyun." He announced straightforward and Kyungsoo could not help but notice Chanyeol's arm as it wound around Baekhyun's tapered waist, drawing him closer.

Kyungsoo introduced himself with the same neutral tone, trying to keep all the horrible feelings from suffocating him.

"Well, it's nice to meet the both of you but I'm afraid I have to go find my date. He's abandoned me."

Kyungsoo turned on his heels and did not notice the look of bewilderment on Chanyeol's face.

 

 

//

 

Jongin wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. That would at least feel marginally better than seeing Taemin and Joohyun in front of him.  It was really petty, pining over a married man who was clearly besotted with his arranged wife. Jongin could not help feeling like someone had just rubbed salt over his gaping wounds.

 

"Jongin?"

 

Said man snapped out of his thoughts at the familiar voice. Jongin noticed how hard he was gripping unto his champagne flute, he would have broken it.

"Uh, Yes." Jongin tried to gather himself, "The prospects of a duet album under a new entertainment agency would be great. People would love that, especially with the added romance and all."

Bullshit.

"So that's settled then." Joohyun —Irene— stared at her husband with a small knowing smile. Taemin reciprocated in earnest. "We'll sign with you Jongin. All our artists will distribute under your label, for the rest of their current contracts."

"Your agency will be big enough to release your own material, you don't really need a distribution firm Taemin."

Taemin shared another knowing smile with his wife and Jongin truly wanted to disappear.

"We want to distribute with you." The woman smiled genially. "It's the least we can do, after all you indirectly caused us to meet through our parents."

Jongin looked vaguely confused and Taemin chuckled in response. "It's a long story Jongin, maybe one day, I'll tell you, but for now please agree to be our distributor. Okay."

"Sure." Jongin felt an arm around his waist. "Sure."

"This is Kyungsoo." Jongin glanced at the escort with a pained smile. "Kyungsoo, Taemin and Joohyun, they're the newlyweds."

"You must be the best friend. I'm Kyungsoo, congratulations on your wedding by the way."

Jongin wondered how Kyungsoo can shift between personas so fast. The man sounded like he belonged to people in Jongin's side of the society. The pretense in his voice was reeking out and it somewhat made Jongin sick and grateful at the same time. 

Jongin glanced at his watch and conjured a face that hopefully concealed his desire to flee. "I'm sorry Taemin, but I have to go. I've been feeling really sick since earlier,"

"You're not going to finish the event?"

"Sorry. Anyway, just send me the preliminary documents before the contract signing, we'll distribute for you."

The happiness on Taemin's face somewhat eased the stabbing pain in Jongin's chest. "Thank you Jongin."

 _You're welcome._ dies pitifully on Jongin's lips.

 

//

 

If Jongin looked like a livewire before coming to the event, Kyungsoo noticed that the man looked ready to combust by the time they were pulling out of the estate's driveway. They remain silent and the charged atmosphere in the car was fraying Kyungsoo's nerves. It did not help that Chanyeol's face still plagued his mind like a bad image.

Thirty minutes into the drive and Kyungsoo decided that he could not breathe in the uncomfortable bubble they shared and decided to ask something he should not.

"So that's Taemin."

Jongin stepped on the brakes too forcefully that the car suddenly careened into a stop. "Let's not talk about him please."

"You wanna drink then? If you pay me now, I'll pay for the drinks, nothing fancy."

Jongin managed a rueful smile before nodding.

 

 

 

By the time Kyungsoo gets handed his payment: ten crisp fifty-thousand won notes, he thanked Jongin and proceeded to grab the man out of his expensive car and into the nearest food tent they could find. The look on Jongin's face was priceless.

"Four bottles of Soju, a bowl of spicy rice cakes, four sticks of grilled squid and a plate of chicken wings please."

"Are you kidding me?"

Kyungsoo chuckled merrily as they find a vacated table and Jongin could not stop looking around the place like a curious kid. 'Is it rich boy's first time in a Pojangmacha?"

Jongin looked insulted. "I technically lived in places like this during my college years. It's just been so long since then. And the amount of food you ordered, are you being serious?"

"Of course, I've been paid a great deal and I'm feeling generous."

Once their orders were on the plastic, monoblock table, the men did not waste a second to dig in. Soju bottles were opened, food were eaten and conversation came easier. Jongin, from what he's told Kyungsoo, still worked under his parents' company. They owned the country's premier entertainment distribution firm and controlled a lot of small agencies under their span. Long story short, Jongin was filthy rich.

 

Kyungsoo relayed his backstory of course. How he got orphaned at thirteen, and started working at Black Rose and all the things that resulted to him being an escort.

 

 

They're in front of the Han River, the remainder Soju bottles were warming in their palms and Kyungsoo thought they were both tipsy but not wasted. He wanted to get wasted but the cool air provided by the river was surely albeit slowly clearing his head.

"Hyung." Jongin said. "Doesn't it ever bother you? Being an escort I mean." 

Kyungsoo answered with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Funny how a rich kid like you won't even say pretentious things like 'I don't mean to offend' or some equally hypocritical shit. I like that Jongin."

"I think it won't really matter if Iasked you anyway. You'd still think I was trying to look down on you."

"Touché. Anyway, I did feel bothered, disturbed per se. But you see Jongin, when your stomach is grumbling and the money you receive by mopping floors aren't enough to sate that grumbling, you'd do anything. Fuck, I even got lucky, I had to work in the restaurant at least I could call myself a glorified prostitute if it came to it."

"I think you're amazing Kyungsoo hyung."

Kyungsoo purged the sudden warmth in his chest at the words.

"Let's get you home, Jongin."

 

 

Aiding Jongin to his penthouse unit at the Imperial Palace Seoul did not seem a nuance to Kyungsoo. He pushed the younger man into the couch and called for another batch of Darjeeling tea.

"Will you stay the night?"  Jongin asked him once he's finished his cup.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes." 

And Kyungsoo leaned in and kissed Jongin on the side of his mouth, down his tanned neck as the younger wound his arms around Kyungsoo's waist. There was this poignant sadness to Jongin that compelled Kyungsoo to crave him, want him. And they'd have slow sex right there on the couch. Kyungsoo crying out Jongin's name as he unraveled under his touch.

 Jongin had enough mind to remember that Kyungsoo did not want to fuse their lips so it never happened, except that Kyungsoo wanted it to happen he wanted Jongin's lips on his and let Jongin's hands own him, and think of him. Not Taemin, not anybody else.

 

When it was over Kyungsoo realized it was not like the first time. He stared at Jongin's slumbering face and though they did fuck with their own interests in mind, Kyungsoo still felt like he was used and it's ironic that he let himself be used. 

"Hyung."

Kyungsoo hummed, his fingers carding through Jongin's soft obsidian hair. "Taemin is the only person I managed to love. For years it was just him. And maybe it’s because of him why I'm so incredibly messed up. I slept around trying to imagine it was him, played with people pretending that it was him. And I still love him so much, even though he's married now, even though I know he loves his wife. I can't fucking let him go and it pains me. I hurt. Do you think I'm pathetic hyung?" 

He had lots of misgivings, and small —maybe huge— feelings of self-entitlement. Generally, he was a person who thought the world owed him a lot.

Or maybe he was just Jongin. A boy trapped in a man's body. Jongin hated the world despite the fact that it had given him all the things he could ever want or in retrospect, all the things he never needed.

And maybe that was why Kyungsoo thought that Jongin held a certain sadness in him. It made Kyungsoo hold him just a bit longer.

"You're not pathetic, the world is just fucking shitty at times and it happens to people." Kyungsoo pressed a kiss on top of Jongin's head. "Go to sleep."

And at 4 AM, Kyungsoo hurriedly dressed and left what Jongin paid him on the coffee table. In the end, as much as he needed that money, he realized he could not take it.

It was for his own sanity.

 

 

 

 


	2. two

Kim Junhee was a beautiful enigma. 

 

He could not stop thinking about the woman, her face plagued his mind and all Yifan could see was  the image of her persona on the day of the Lees banquet.

Yifan was probably going to go insane at this rate.

"Hyung, are you really still hung up on Junhee noona? I told you, she's unavailable." 

Yifan speared him with a dark look. Jongdae's lips only curled up in defiance and Liyin, his current conquest almost spat into her drink. Yifan looked on, amused. Jongdae will never admit but Yifan knew that the man was not just fond of the Chinese singer, they're hitting their six month now and Yifan was probably going to get invited to a wedding soon. 

"Junhee unnie?"

Jongdae faced her with a small smirk on his face. "Sehun's sister yes. Do you wanna bet how long it would take for Yifan here to finally take her to dinner."

"Kim Jongdae, I'm still in here. I exist."

The couple made it a point to downright ignore him but Yifan could not stop the pleased smile on his face as Jongdae joked on his expense and Liyin freely laughed with him. They're an amazing couple and Yifan was truly happy for them.

"I bet it'll take a week."

"I  think, he'll never manage."

"Am I really the butt of the joke now?"

"Yes."

Yifan sighed.

 

//

 

Yifan had a number of hobbies but his undisputed favorite would have been his regular visits to an outdoor firing range facility in the outskirts of the city, he liked target shooting the most because he could shoot a gun without killing anybody and it was great at relieving stress. And truly Yifan was absurdly stressed it was damaging his skin.

As soon as he's stepped into the service building to acquire his equipment, the safety officer, Yixing, already pointed out how dark his mood was and how it was ruining the Chi in the room. Yifan rolled his eyes as he inspected his regular .45 and three magazines of his preferred ammunition. He was going to blast some moving targets today, take his mind off of  Kim Junhee because his frustration over the damn woman was not good for anybody.

"By the way, Fan someone's at your usual spot today." Yixing waggled his eyebrows at the taller. "Some girl with scary accuracy, I think you'll get along just well."

Yifan grabbed his ear muffs and goggles before saying. "I think I can't get along with anyone today Xing."

 

Yifan's blood pressure knew it before he did.

A woman dressed in simple jeans and a wispy black button down occupied _his usual target spot_ and was blowing up _his moving targets_ with a scarily precise ease. She moved her arms and shifted so fast as if the gun she was firing had no recoil. But Yifan recognized the firearm, a Smith and Wesson .45 caliber which was heavy.

Yifan gazed on with awe as she emptied out her last magazine. He was so amazed that he automatically handed her one box of his bullets.

Wrong move.

When the woman turned to thank him, Yifan almost choked.

Why hadn't he realized it sooner? The platinum blonde, the petite stature, and that long neck reminded him of Junhee and damn, of all the fucking places why does Kim Junhee have to be on the same firing range,  using the same firearm he preferred and why does she have to have a professionally polished skill and deadly accuracy.

And gods, why the hell does Yifan have to meet Kim Junhee on the same day that he's trying to forget about the same blasted woman. Damn it all!

Yifan furrowed his eyebrows as Kim Junhee stared at him amused. She rotated her shoulders and stretched her pristine neck from side to side. Yifan almost wanted to cry, her skin looked perfect, like it was gleaming under the soft mid-morning sun and Yifan was utterly convinced that she was the most gorgeous woman he's ever had the chance to lay his sight upon. It was torture.

"Wu Yifan ssi." Junhee pleasantly greeted as she reloaded her magazine. "What a surprise."

Yifan merely nodded his reply before abruptly facing his targets. He aimed and shot, blasting paper stands which popped up at  three second intervals  at distances that varied from ten to more than a hundred yards. Yifan did not feel much of a recoil, after all he's been using the same gun for years and he was already too used to its weight. His firing mobility was agile, and with perfect eyesight his accuracy was seamless.

 Yifan focused his all upon the targets, intent on momentarily forgetting that the woman beside him was sizing him up. He unloaded his magazines. When he ran out of bullets he stopped, placed his gun down and hissed at the onslaught of pain in his shoulders.

"Recoil pains hurt like a bitch."

"You said it."

Junhee laughed, her smile dazzling and Yifan was truly losing all his charms against this woman.

"You're good Yifan ssi. I had no idea you were into firing sports."

"Been at it for a few years now, I can practically shoot in this range with my eyes closed."

"Getting cocky now are we."

Yifan smirked, "I say the truth. Do you want to bet? After all I am still open to the prospects of that dinner with you."

"Are you that eager to get into my pants?" Junhee remarked, voice still laced with mirth.

"You could say that, Junhee. You are an exceptionally gorgeous woman after all."

Yifan thought he'd invoke a pretty reaction with his words but Junhee merely shook her head. The color on her cheeks stayed the same and Yifan was partially disappointed. She was proving to be quite the challenge.

"Sehun did tell me you were straightforward, though I had no idea you were going to be this frank. I appreciate that, a lot of people prefer wooing me with flagrant words, I like that you hadn't taken that route."

"Thank you. This challenge though, It's easy, we both shoot consequently for one minute and the one who shoots down more targets, win."

"What's in it for me?"

"You get to use me for whatever the hell it is for one whole week, but if I win. I'll take you out to dinner."

"Oh," The sly grin on the woman's face may have scared Yifan but he'll.never admit that. "You're going to regret asking me that."

Surely, Junhee won shooting down a perfect eight targets as opposed to Yifan's six (because she was too distracting). Yifan almost wilted but the innocent kiss, Junhee left on his cheek and the promises of calling Yifan later that week for her reward, scared and excited Yifan at the same time.

 

//

 

The day of the contract signing lend a jarring kind of tranquility to Jongin.  He glanced at a smiling Taemin from across the glass table and despite everything, Jongin found himself conjuring a tired smile, an indication that all the fight he thought he had left for him, for his crushed dignity was slowly ebbing out of his body like sweat exiting pores. Jongin was just so tired about constantly wallowing in a sea of self induced loathing, in the first place Yifan was actually right, Jongin did not need to subject himself to such a destructive adoration, because nothing ever came out of it.

But really, the act of saying 'I quit' was always easier than actually doing it. Jongin could lie to himself, pretend that it was alright because he held affections for Taemin and because of that, Jongin will let him go, bury more than a decade's worth of memories between them and let this feeling pass like it was yesterday's young love. But the thing is, it's not and Jongin did not know how to let go. It's almost funny because in the first place, throughout the course of this mess, Taemin remained blissfully oblivious, and Jongin truly felt even more pathetic.

"Since we are officially business parteners now, how about a grand tour of the place." Taemin stood up and latched a hand around Jongin's wrist with the excitement of a child. Jongin nodded his affirmation as he calmly pulled his arm away from Taemin's grasp, his touch was electrifying Jongin. 

The new building was still unusually empty of people. The various offices were unmanned and relatively nonfunctional but the recording and practice areas were and are already equipped. On  the lower floors, Taemin had pushed him inside of a comppetely darkened room. Their footsteps were echoing.

"You're going to love this." Taemin smiled as he reached for the light switches, incandescent orange light filled the vast darkness, transforming it into a huge ballroom with one high wall covered with mirrors. Bulbs from the high ceiling poured light onto the shiny wooden floors. 

"It's the widest dance slash practice studio in the building. Amazing isn't it?"

"It looks amazing." 

"Let's use it." 

Taemin said and shrugged his business coat, tossing it haphazardly on the floor. The man approached the left corner of the room and slid open a panel within the wall. Jongin realized what Taemin was up to as he connected his phone onto a dock  that let the music peal from within the hidden speakers behind the walls. Jongin recognized the upbeat tone. It was the same music he and Taemin used years ago, when they were still dancers in their college's performing troupe. Back when they were technically young boys who knew no joy past their shared passion, boys without the burden of obligations their powerful families demand of them.

Jongin watched Taemin as he moved with the music like it came from within him. There was a subdued smile on his lips, his carefully styled hair becoming undone as he moved with the same titillating grace Jongin has not seen in years now. The younger found himself stepping into the dance as if his movements weren't of his own volition. The steps blurred as he tried to picture it in his mind, but his body knew it from muscle memory it was an instinct that ran in his blood and Jongin knew that even without looking at their reflection, he and Taemin were in sync. The music stopped, Jongin snapped his eyes open as Taemin inhaled lungfuls of oxygen.

"Been so long." Taemin remarked wheezing as he did. "That felt like my lungs were going to collapse."

Jongin could not take his eyes away from the older. For one beautifully sickening moment, Jongin was taken back to the dingy practice room in their college dorm. The mirrors were chipped at some places, the floor creaky and the airconditioning was faulty at best. Taemin was looking at him with a blissed out grin that could probably split his face, sweat ran down his temples in rivulets and Jongin could swear that his heart stopped and accelarated, like it wanted to burst out of his chest at any given moment. Funny how he'd obsessively stalked love — what he believed was total bullshit that people liked to have because it was the fad — until it rammed him right on his face, or chest.

And after that Jongin made sure to chase that feeling away because he felt that it was wrong. Of course, a stupid young Jongin thought to control it by using everyone willing to throw themselves at him. It's all good and  fun, until he started seeing Taemin in everyone, until every little thing reminded him of Taemin.

Taemin, Taemin, Taemin.

And godfucking damn, it was absolutely maddening.

"I really wanted this place on —"

It took Jongin two strides, his palms on Taemin's cheeks, his lips upon Taemin's lips. He barely produced any movement as he kissed him, it was not even a kiss, just a simple press of lips that held years worth of Jongin's pointless adoration.

The brunette still looked shocked out of his skin when Jongin pulled away, his eyes boring into Taemin's.

"I love you."

And maybe Jongin needed that, a closure to something that has never even had the chance to begin. Maybe Taemin's verbal and physical rejection would finally snap Jongin out of this delusion that had held him at the throat for years.

"Jongin what?"

"I love you." He said it again, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to not unravel at the seams. It was so easy to say, his tongue forming the words like it was practiced.  Jongin thought that it would have been harder to articulate something even Jongin, for years,  could not describe for himself. But no, all it took was a mere "i love you" words so overused it barely had substance.

Love, Jongin thought, if it goes unrequited, is it still love?

And as he looked at Taemin's face, laced with barely concealed horror and confusion Jongin realized that the hole in his chest felt wider but at least it was finally over.

 

//

 

Kyungsoo did not expect to see Jongin again, but there he was sitting at the farthest corner, just peeking at the edges of Kyungsoo's peripheral vision. He looked distraught, his coat was missing, his tie loosened and his face looked too somber for Kyungsoo's liking, the escort was too busy staring at Jongin that he almost forgot the next line to his rendition of Urban Zapaka's "Thursday Night."

And he absolutely did not want to admit that he missed the younger  man but his hands were suddenly clammy and he felt ike his throat was going to close up on him.  Thankfully it was his final song. 

Kyungsoo descended from the stage as a few of the customers clapped their appreciation. The escort went directly to the farthest table and ceased a few feet away from Jongin, now that he was closer he could make out the man's swollen eyes, like he'd been crying.

Jongin looked up at him with a tired smile. "Hey."

Kyungsoo nodded and took the seat beside Jongin, plucking out the neglected fork from beside the man's cheesecake and spearing a piece of the said cake for himself. "What are you doing here?"

Jongin shrugged. "Why are you mutilating my food?"

"Because I'm hungry and it looked inviting."

Jongin chuckled as he leaned closer to Kyungsoo's personal space. The latter froze on the spot as Jongin rested his head on Kyungsoo's shoulder. They stayed still and Kyungsoo could not stop the shaky breath that had escaped him. "Jongin, really why are you here?"

"Hyung." Jongin looked and sounded so exhausted and Kyungsoo tried so hard to not notice. He could not get affected, not again. "Can you go out with me today. No fucking, I just need to take my mind off of things."

Kyungsoo wanted to tell him that sex is a good distraction, because that's a thing he could provide without craving something else that led to useless heartbreaks. But Kyungsoo found himself nodding asking if Jongin wanted to watch a movie. The man agreed.

 

 

It's eleven PM and they're walking out of the theater. Kyungsoo wanted ro ramble about the movie they have watched  just to fill the empty silence but  Jongin did not even look like he even registered anything about the flashy sci-fi movie. Kyungsoo thought it would not be a good idea to jostle Jongin of whatever it was that made him look like a shell of the man he usually was,  like his soul had momentarily escaped his body.

A few more minutes of pointless walking and Kyungsoo had to break the silence. "Jongin, where are we going?"

The man turned to stare at him and said, "Do you wanna get some coffee?"

Kyungsoo merely nodded. Thankfully a lot of cafés were still open even a few minutes shy of midnight. They entered one, almost empty by the looks of it and Jongin slid his black card to Kyungsoo without second thought, he still looked detached and Kyungsoo wanted to call out his behavior but turned it down in his mind. With a sigh, he approached the counter and  muttered. "Two hot Americanos, and that whole chocolate cake you have there." To a confused looking cashier.

"The whole cake sir?"

Kyungsoo nodded sliding Jongin's card toward the woman. "Yes, I'd take the whole thing please."

The cake seemed to attract Jongin's attention. He gave the chocolate confection one glance and chuckled. "If you wanted a cake earlier you should have told me."

"Jongin I'm not someone's child who needed babysitting, alright.  You  know one thing I could give you and you don't even want that. Really, what is it that you need?"

"Hyung, you don't even take my money. I weirdly consider you my friend and I don't sleep with my friends, alright , we fucked twice that was the end of it. I just need a companion."

"Jongin, you and I both know you would not have come to me just because you needed a  fuckin' 'companion'."

Jongin turned away from Kyungsoo's gaze and looked at the window almost as if he was counting down every people who were passing by his vision. The sight lend such a child like quality to it, it was jarring to think that Jongin technically controlled the entertainment industry of their country.

It was too quiet when he finally answered. "I told him I loved him."

Kyungsoo knew it was Taemin. After all, thoughts of the man and the way Jongin uttered the syllables of his name like it was a prayer still prickled at his skin. "And what happened?"

Jongin chuckled, the noise sounding like he was strangled. "If he weren't so confused he probably would've punched my face." 

"I didn't mean him, Jongin. I meant you, what happened after?"

"Kyungsoo hyung, I'm not really forcing you to hear this, I sound too pathetic already."

"Jongin, I'm your friend, you said it yourself. You can't go around carrying something this heavy, it'll poison you. A little talking won't hurt."

Jongin pulled away from the window and stared at Kyungsoo with the same expression the businessman had looked at him from the night they first met —like someone was slowly sliding a blade under his skin. But Jongin's facade quickly shuttered as he let out an unsteady exhale. "I don't know why but I feel better than before."

Kyungsoo stared at him, expecting the same kind of answer.

 "I did it because I had to bury all these…feelings for him. It's suffocating me. Whenever he's near I just want to….hold him. But I can't do that because he's my fucking best friend and I don't want to lose what we have now. It's insane how I just can't stick to one side of my reasoning and stand with it until the end. Sometimes, I want to be more than his friend and it drives me crazy that we can't be that, we'll never have that kind of relationship, no matter how hard I try, It'll never change. And so I did it because I loved him but I had to let it go, to save myself, to save what's left that doesn't need him."

Kyungsoo sipped his coffee as he listened to Jongin's quiet tirade. He'd been expectimg that it was about Taemin. Hell, it was always about Taemin.

"You're not too different from the normal lot of us Jongin. You can't just sit there and  wish for fanciful relationships to happen just because you exist. And do believe me, I applaud you for telling him, for attempting to let him go. That's the essence of love and its pretty fucked up, believe me I know. But I can tell you that sometimes, letting go paves a better way for the both of you. Taemin looked happy and you should be too — even if his happiness isn't you. Because I'm sure one day, you'll find yours." 

Jongin didn't look as tense when Kyungsoo finished his small speech. He was pretty proud of how honest his words had been. He lived with the same principles and that was why it was easy for him to let people go when their happiness is not with him. That was why he let Chanyeol go, why he accepted his parents' death — although he still asked God (whomever he is) 'why' at times but he never stopped hoping that maybe one day, he'll finally understand the reason.

"It's hard hyung, I do feel better  but it feels like there's this void inside me and I don't know what to fill it with. It's always fucking pathetic."

Kyungsoo wanted to tell him that the he hadn't completely let Taemin go and he felt this void because he numbed himself against the pain of completely throwing away what must have been years of pent up emotions. It was still there, laying dormant until Jongin could finally let everything go, burn it if he had to, watch its ashes disappear in the air.

Kyungsoo did not tell him this, after all he still carried some of that void, small vestiges of grief. The only difference was that he had learned to live with it. Jongin will learn, maybe one day the both of them could burn all the remains, stitch up this void and regain the  true happiness which life had stolen from them.

The escort sealed his lips tight and stood up he glanced at the remaining half of the sweet confection and smiled to himself. "It's late Jongin, we better go home. Plus the manager is already giving us the stink eye."

Jongin chuckled and stood up.

"Let's go."

 

//

 

They're back in his penthouse. It was 2 in the morning and the chill was seeping into his bones. Jongin felt lighter after their small conversation in the café. Kyungsoo's voice washed over his mind and it calmed the tempest inside, his voice reached into the eye of the hurricane in Jongin's heart and coaxed his emotions to settle.

Kyungsoo really was an amazing person. Jongin reminded himself to thank his hedonistic friend, Yifan, after all it was his brilliant idea to let a prostitute distract Jongin from his crippling grief. 

"I should go." Kyungsoo stood by the double doors to his penthouse, a small grin on his heart shaped lips. Jongin nodded but as Kyungsoo turned on his heels, Jongin found himself acting out of his own volition. He grabbed the man by his forearm and spun him around. "Actually, I want you to stay hyung." Jongin shot him a small shy smile. "I don't want to be alone and  I've already manipulated your time too much,"

"Jongin I —"

"Please?"

Kyungsoo sighed. "Alright, Jongin, you win."

 

 

 

"Why do you live in a hotel anyway?" Kyungsoo asked later when they're both dressed, seated on the couch and sharing  a bottle of expensive whiskey. The television was playing some black and white film, it did not have subtitles but Kyungsoo guessed it was a sappy romance — too much kissing.

"I got kicked out of the house."

"Really? You've got to be shitting me."

"Yes, really. I turn twenty six and my mother just tells me to pack up and leave. My dad says that I'm already too old and should start living on my own. Haven't done that since college and even then I lived off of takeout. I didn't  know how to cook and I can't deal with my own mess. It's a recipe for a disaster really. So here I am, living in this opulent hotel room while I try and sort out what has become of my life. Don't judge me."

Kyungsoo noted Jongin's usage of 'mom' and 'dad'. He sounded respectful but the hint of close familial ties made Kyungsoo smile a little.

"You're wasting money. I'll go help you find an apartment, and maybe teach you how to cook and sort your own mess. I'm an expert at those kind of things.

"You don't have to Kyungsoo hyung, I can't string you into my mess."

"You've already strung me into your mess Jongin."

"Well, guess I really suck at real life things, huh."

"Stop, overthinking and let's go to sleep. Get off of my couch."

"Let's share the bed. It's huge enough for five people."

"Okay, okay."

Kyungsoo followed him into the bed room and the escort could not stop the slight heat in his neck at the sight of the wide bed. It was a blessing that the room was fairly dark.

Jongin went under the covers and Kyungsoo found himself timidly following the younger. He willed himself to not get affected since Jongin was probably keen on his earlier statement. Nothing was going to happen between them again, except that Kyungsoo wanted something to happen.

And the shame he had felt before was already rounding its roots around his neck and Kyungsoo knew what it meant. He was already harboring an unhealthy attraction to Jongin and he could not let that happen again.

Not. Again.

So he slipped under the covers, a good few inches away from the man that made his heart beat a little too faster. Sleep catched Kyungsoo's conciousness and he drifted away as Jongin's arms wound around his waist pulling him closer.

Kyungsoo felt peace. Beautiful, satisfying peace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is like 4k words lesser than the first one. sorry :3


	3. three

The call that Yifan had been waiting for came a day shy of one week. He'd begun to lose hope that Junhee's call would ever come. The woman probably had forgotten about him and it made Yifan upset, he was constantly seen frowning at his phone and would shoot dark looks at everyone who queried why he looked like he was going to murder some random people.

So when said device flashed "Kim Junhee" across its screen Yifan had quickly slid his thumb to receive the call with the most uncharacteristic. "Hello?" He could muster. The word rolled out of his lips with no finesse whatsoever, Yifan wanted to cry at the death of his own charm. He was not going to take Junhee to dinner ever at the pathetically fast rate he was spiralling down.

"Wu Yifan ssi?"

"I thought you'd never call." Yifan managed a teasing voice and it somehow revived his shrivelling reputation. "I've been waiting."

The woman's melodious chuckles filtered through the phone and there was obnoxious warmth spreading on Yifan's heart. The man mentally raised his own eyebrows at his body's beyond normal reaction.

"I'm not calling because of that dinner, if that's what you've been hoping for." Junhee said and Yifan's metaphorical self raised its eyebrows higher. "But I would appreciate your presence tomorrow, preferably seven in the morning."

Yifan would usually still be oblivious to the world at the said hour but he realized it was pretty easy to say his agreements. Junhee sounded positively thrilled at the answer and the warmth in Yifan's chest expanded. He could not say that he loathed the feeling.

"I'll text you the address."

The call cut off and a minute later, Yifan's phone rang with Junhee's message. The address led to a research facility, near the center but quite far enough to avoid the noise and the pollution of the metropolis. Yifan furrowed his eyebrows, wondering where the hell Junhee is leading him. Nonetheless, not wanting to waste his chances. He replies:

"Got it. I'll bring you flowers."

_"Don't want them. You could bring, chocolates though. Lots of them for the kids."_

Yifan was truly confused yet he typed "alright." Anyway.

 

The next morning Yifan exited his apartment too prompt at six in the morning. He had no idea how he managed to rouse himself at such an ungodly hour. (well, Yifan is a social butterfly who was too active at night. His mornings don't start until the sun has risen up high into the city skyline.) He'd knocked down a cup of piping hot coffee, dressed into his usual buttonup —he'd worn red! — and slacks and went down with a bag full of small confectionary crammed in his long arms. His driver, who looked less chipper than he usually was, yawned into his palms and gave Yifan a tired a smile.

"We're early today aren't we, Master Wu."

Yifan shot him a grin as he climbed into the backseat of his SUV. "Yes. I'm off too woo the love of my life. And Jung seriously, it's Yifan, I feel so old when you call me 'master'."

Yifan had missed the look of mild confusion the older man conjured as he occupied the driver's seat. He stared at Yifan through the front mirror and furrowed his eyebrows at his employer who was unusually energetic. "Correct me if I'm wrong mas—I mean Yifan ssi, but we are headed to St. Agnes right?"

"St. Agnes. Yes. Why?"

"Nothing. It's just that St. Agnes reminds me of my daughter, Harim. She used to be admitted at St. Agnes. It's a research facility and ward for pediatric cancer patients. The doctors were really nice too."

Yifan stared at his trusted driver. "But Harim, she passed away right?"

"Yes. Neuroblastoma. The doctors did everything they could."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright Yifan. So is this lady in question a doctor or something?"

"Actually, I'm not too sure Jung. But her name is Kim Junhee, she's Sehun's sister, and I mean Sehun from KS ent."

"I think she's not one of the doctors. I've never heard of the name, and I knew every doctor in there."

"Well, I guess I'll have to be surprised."

//

Yifan had learned that St. Agnes was an institution solely dedicated for children with cancer. It had two buildings, and Yifan noticed the complete lack of benchmarks that signified it was a hospital. One of the edifices was a close rendition of a Tudor house except that it was painted warm tones of beige and the upper floors had wide windows made of glass. The other building was a two-storey structure which Yifan guessed must be the actual hospital.

The place was near the city so it did not feel too secluded but also far enough that pollution was not permeating the very air they breathed.

When Yifan disembarked from the car, he'd told Jung that he could wander around and the man only nodded.

Junhee noticed him almost immediately, the smile on her face as warm as the canary yellow dress she'd donned.

"Hi." She said.

Yifan could not stop himself as he stepped forward and gathered the smiling woman in his arms. There was a tug in his chest and for a poignant five seconds, he questioned his life like a disillusioned teenager; asked himself a couple of whys. It felt like he'd walked into a film badly portraying his life backwards.

He questioned why he was slowly reopening the boxes he'd forgotten at the edges of his mind. Yifan didn't normally thought back or looked forward, he lived for the moment, assessed the current hours but never processed his reactions either. He went at life with a naive spontaneity and he was content with the slight mediocrity of it…until he laid eyes upon this woman.

Yifan wondered if Junhee had grasped her whole effect on him.

"I missed you." Yifan said and then there was an indication of shock painted in warm tones on the canvas of Junhee's face. Yifan wondered why again, not processing the words he'd just said. But when he realized what the syllables of his honsest confession had meant, Yifan pulled back feeling as though a slew of rocks was thrown upon his being.

Yifan never told anyone those words. Even his grandmother, whom he routinely saw twice every month, did not receive those words from him. Why'd he said it? It didn't even sound like him.

He handed the bag of chocolates to Junhee who only smiled angelically at him. Yifan was beginning to regret this, his heart was pulsing and he was pretty sure he could hear his blood rushing.

"I appreciate that you arrived. I wasn't expecting it."

Yifan stared at her and somehow he wanted to pull back and run away but he also wanted to kiss her cheeks and run his fingers through her long platinum hair. Yifan was not pretty sure what triggered these feelings, he could not even pick them apart. He knew that at first it was just lust, his flesh craving what is superficial. But now… is it love? Can something as confusing, overwhelming and quite shockingly fast, be called love? In the first place, Yifan had no idea what loved felt like but he could be fanciful sometimes but even at this rate, he could not say it was love, hell it was their third meeting! Maybe it was just a deep set infatuation, because no person ever took this long to succumb to Yifan's charms.

But even Yifan was doubting his own reasoning.

"I guessed that you would have appreciate my being here." Yifan replied trying to keep the warmness in his bass tone.

"I sure did." Junhee wrapped and arm around his, slightly dragging him to the shaded field where chairs were strategically placed in front of a fixed stage. People were milling about, some were pushing children's wheel chairs under the shade provided by the shadow of the Tudor house.

Yifan's gut twisted, the children…most of them did not look too good health wise. There was a girl, probably about four with a yellow beanie on her head. She looked emaciated, the bones jutting out against her pale skin and there was a catheter tube protruding from her stomach and was attached to a bag in her wheel chair. Yifan could not describe the wrenching in his heart, like it was being pulled out and metaphorically shredded in front of his face. He was really drowning — suffocating —in the emotions that were producing a tempest in his chest.

"Junhee." He sounded like he was being strangled. "I — what happened to these children?"

Junhee just looked at him with a grim smile on her face. "I'll tell you later, but first we'll have to watch them, they're playing Cinderella."

Yifan could not focus on the short presentation. The kids who'd performed looked relatively fine but Yifan knew they weren't. He looked around as children, most of them wheel chair bound looked on with dazzling smiles which greatly contradicted the sad state of their health. Yifan truly wanted to flee and maybe cry this out. He was not expecting to see so much children suffering.

Yifan thought he'd lost his soul a long time ago. He was not cynical about the world, but he was painfully realistic without empathy. He didn't care about bad things happening because one way or another he believed that a person's general life was unfair, and it could be unfair to the point of being totally hellish.

But these children — some of them could not even pronounce the syllables of their own name —did not deserve this pain. No child deserved this pain. It was a childhood robbed, a life so short it could be predicted, and no child deserved that. No one.

 

  
When the play was over Junhee had brought him to the lunch table. He gazed on as the woman talked with parents — a couple, they looked like they were his age but the sadness in their eyes added years into their physicality. Yifan felt their grief but most of all there was an admiration. Yifan knew they were going to do anything to win this battle, they were fighting with their child and Yifan did not think anything could be anymore courageous than that.

"This is Yifan." Junhee had said when she'd introduced him to some of the doctors — oncologists — and Yifan could not help but embrace every one of them while he whispered. "You're doing an amazing job." To each. They merely smiled tiredly.

 

 

"Yifan."

"Ifaan?"

Yifan smiled and picked up the little girl, Misun, as what she'd told him. She was two years old, complications from retinoblastoma already starting to affect her vision. Yifan thought she was a beautiful little girl who deserved all the happiness in this world.

"Yifan."

She giggled, butchering the syllables of his name yet again. "Ifaeen."

Yifan bumped noses with her, he could not contain the overwhelming feeling in his chest.

"Ifaaen, I am a pwincess!"

"Yes you are." Yifan replied. "You are a beautiful, brave princess." The child's laughter rings clear in Yifan's ear. He put her down as Junhee approached him. "You seem to be having fun." Yifan simply nodded "What's going to happen to Misun?"

"She'll start her first session of radiation therapy next week. She's lucky, her parents noticed the glow early. She has high chances and I'm hoping she'll come out of it okay and healthy. I'm betting everything on her survival —on everyone's survival no matter how slim their chances are, as long as there's a chance. "

"These children," Yifan gazed at them as the ones who were healthy enough (alternatively those who are in the beginnings of their treatment) were allowed to play on the neatly trimmed field adjacent to the Tudor house. The smile on Yifan's lips was starting to hurt his jaw but he could not stop. No when he suddenly felt like his life had found meaning, a purpose. "They make me feel something. Junhee why'd you bring me here?"

"You wouldn't believe me when I tell you that I wanted to prove people wrong. You're actually famous Yifan -famous for being a heartless bastard who generally did not give a damn about the world." Junhee chuckled.

Oh, she was right. Yifan was indeed a heartless, hedonistic bastard who wanted nothing but seek things for his own pleasure. The thought suddenly disgusted him. Funny how it felt like he'd ran into an alternate version of himself and wanted to tell this version to get his life together and quit being an useless fool.

"They were right Junhee, I am indeed a heartless bastard. I'm not a good man."

"I didn't believe them, never did. And I don't believe you too Yifan. I don't want you to think that I'm being a saintly hypocrite but I just happen to think that all people even the most evil ones, have an innate kindness. Theirs is just too buried under a lot of ugly things. But your kindness, it's on the surface, just needs a bit of coaxing. That's why I brought you here and see, you already look too attached to these children, you have a heart." His smile could not get any warmer at her words. "That and also the fact that I wanted a visitor for the kids. Sehun doesn't really want to be here. He says it makes him feel useless and an insignificant human being."

"Typical of him. But I guess, I am really attached to these children. I want to find a cure or help fund these doctors find a cure. Junhee, how can I help?"

"You can start by coming once every month. I'm usually here everytime I come home from France. There's also the financial side of things, its voluntary. It doesn't matter how small or big, every little thing matters."

"Maybe a donation or something, anything."

"That could be arranged." Junhee said, "So did I manage to thaw your cold heart Yifan? See, I'm always right about people. I knew you weren't as intimidating as you looked."

Yifan chuckled with her. "You're truly an amazing woman. I've never met anyone as involved at life as you. I suddenly feel like you've given me purpose. I didn't even know I was lacking something until you brought me to here. Thank you, Jun really."

"You're welcome." As Yifan locked eyes with her, he noticed that one of her irises hinted a very light gray, the other being a warm hazel color. Yifan hadn't noticed she was heterochromatic. It made her even more special.

"Also about that dinner -since I've lost a bet against myself and now I'm relenting -I'm free the day after tomorrow. Pick me up at eight? "

Yifan almost cheered. "Of course."

  
//

Yifan furrowed his eyebrows at the whole state of things in the room. It was charged with electricity and it was fraying Yifan's nerves. He stared back and forth from Jongin to Taemin and wanted nothing but bash the both of them into speech.

They were in a pre-conclusive meeting for Taemin and Irene's duet album, because it was Skyline's —the entertainment and media sector of VM, of which Jongin's filthy rich family was a member of —protocol to let the leading officers process certain details before passing it down next to the second in the hierarchy. And seriously Yifan had no time for all these nonsense, he had a date with Junhee that evening!

Yifan sighed, screwed his eyes shut and let Jongin and Taemin simmer in their internal muted battle, the both of them were sitting ramrod straight and Yifan was beginning to become irritated.

"Alright, we'll be taking over March with the promotions. The album pre-order and production will probably take three so, let's set it around the second week of February. Announce the comeback by the first week of March. Will that be okay with you both, President Kim, Taemin? "

Jongin merely nodded. Taemin provided a better, "That would be fine. Thank you Jongin, Yifan." Before exiting Jongin's office without a second look back. The door slammed shut and Yifan let out a groan. "What happened to the both of you this time? Seriously Jongin, we can't work properly if you can't do something about this whole Taemin fia—"

"I told him."

"—sco." Yifan abruptly finished his sentence and stared yet again at Jongin who squared his shoulders before letting out a shuddering sigh. "I told him, alright. I told him everything and now he could not even fucking look me in the eye."

"Well shit." Yifan stood up and paced. "Jongin we can't continue to work if the both of you have years worth of emotional dead ends with no closure. This is just the beginning and it's already becoming such a complicating factor. We need to fix this."

"Then what the fuck do you want me to do Yifan? This was my idea of letting him go and you clearly don't know how hard it was. I've already lost all my chances. And now even my friendship, the only thing I have with him, is gone."

"Jongin you're not getting my point."

"No here's my point: we're not broken machines which could be fixed just with correcting a few loose screws, Yifan, but you don't know that because you haven't experienced this, you haven't stood in my place, wanting a person you could never fucking have and because you've never even learned how to…feel. I'll tell you something, it's not easy to accept. The thing we had— it didn't need no fixing, what's there to fix when there weren't even damages in the first place? How can I put a closure to something that hasn't even begun?"

The words took immediate effect and Yifan pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Some things are just meant to be doomed right from the start and this was one of those things."

Yifan screwed his eyes shut and inhaled. Jongin was right, there was a gravity to their situation that he will never understand. He could not really say anything helpful about the situation either because his life rarely revolved around emotional ties. All he had were shallow relationships, majority not even lasting a year and maybe it was a wake up call for Yifan.

"I'm sorry Jongin. But just try to work it out between you two."

Jongin hadn't bothered to reply.

//

She wore a long sleeved red dress that evening. Her hair down against one shoulder in its natural loose waves. Junhee smiled at Yifan as the latter leaned down to leave a chaste peck on her forehead.

"You look gorgeous."

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

Yifan opened the passenger door and watched her occupy the vacant seat. He crossed the vehicle and situated himself in front of the driver's seat. His hands were shaking as they tried to wrap around the wheel.

"So where do you plan on taking me?"

Yifan glanced at her, leaned close and pulled down Junhee's seatbelt against her front. They stared at each other for a jarring five seconds before chuckles erupted into the confined space. "I didn't do that on purpose."

"Right, sure you didn't." She teased, her tone laced with mirth. "So are you planning to take me to some fancy restaurant with big plates and no food or, to some traditional Korean restaurant with real food."

"Which do you prefer?"

"Any place where I can have a piping hot bowl of Samgyetang, or maybe grilled pork. That would be nice."

"Alright,"

//

The look on the woman's face was priceless as they entered the slightly packed place. Patrons sat on heated floors sharing tables and feeding each other lettuce wraps. Yifan was really glad he'd asked her where she wanted to eat and cancelled his reservation in that cliché, posh restaurant he'd been meaning to take her.

They occupied one of the farthest table from the center where they're generally away from the center of the boisterous noise. Yifan received the menu, ordered samgyetang, side dishes and pork to grill. He might have been Chinese but he's been in Korea for so long he knew the culture, most especially the food, by heart.

"That would be all?"

"Can I get patbingsu?"

The old server looked at Junhee funny, it was a chilly October night afterall.

"Oh, okay ma'am."

"Shaved ice?"

"They don't have it in France. By the way Yifan, I think I haven't formally introduced myself." Yifan smiled as she extended her hand for an amicable handshake. "I'm Kim Junhee, I'm twenty-seven. I'm an architect based in France. My family owns an entertainment agency. I'm not really sure which artists are under us except that we have a singer named Baekhyun. I am Sehun's older sister. I could say I'm amazing at target shooting " Yifan playfully scoffed. "And I founded St. Agnes Institute for Pediatric Cancer with a few Korean friends whom were my classmates at university. There, that should be all."

Yifan clasped her hand against his. "I'm Wu Yifan, I guess you probably know that already. I'm twenty-eight this year. I'm COO of Skyline but I'm also a music producer. My mom used to be a ballerina, now she owns a dance school, my father is an artist. I have two cats, my friends are having their issues and …" Yifan exhaled. "I'm looking at the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen."

And maybe the sincerity of his words caused the slight coloration on Junhee's cheeks but for the record Yifan could not really stop the heat that was sprouting from under his collar either.

What the hell was he saying? He never gave compliments without secondary intentions, he said them because he wanted to fuck and leave and he knew his words held the necessary coaxing in their flowery lies. But Kim Junhee, he can't seem to tell her anything but the truth, plain and simple.

Thankfully the necessary distraction was laid at their table in the form of steaming bowls of Samgyetang and slices of marbled pork. "Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea how long I've been craving Ginseng infused chicken."

"You're welcome. Say Junhee, why'd you think about funding a center for cancer. I mean, you're an architect and all that. It just seemed…odd to me."

Yifan fed her a lettuce wrap and the ease of the action went unnoticed by the two of them. "It's just a long standing love for humanity, children mostly because they deserve a chance. And maybe because I wanted to make a difference. I also had friends who were med school students then and they've helped me with the institute since."

"I can't believe someone would do something as significant as what you did. Love for humanity? I can't even name another person who gave the slightest shit about human beings."

"There's a lot of people who still have hope left for humanity Yifan. You flatter me."

And Yifan only smiled at her words. "It takes a special lot of blind courage and a deeply set faith to attempt on making a shot at difference Junhee."

"Then why don't you attempt it Yifan?" Junhee was looking at him and her beautiful heterochromatic eyes were compelling to Yifan. " We don't really have much of a difference. We're people with equal parts: good and evil."

Yifan looked down and scraped at the remnants of food left on his clay platter. And thought all the reasons why he can't do it.

A lot of people claim on having compassion and other flowery lies. But Yifan could tell that they didn't really give two flying fucks if people were dying, or that children were starving. All they have is sympathy, and symapathy wasn't any better than looking on and feeling sad but doing nothing to help some kid who was slowly dying as flies flocked on at a distance, ready for a feast.

And Yifan was just another human being who was powerless against the odds, no matter how hard he tried.

"My best friend." Yifan says after some time of uselessly picking at his food. "Threw a metaphorical punch at me earlier, you know what—he told me I never learned how to feel. It hit me right there how right he was. Sometimes, I feel like a total excuse for a person, a wasted space for another useless human being. And it's that thought that drives me crazy. To be aware that I can't do anything to instigate a good kind of change... it's unnerving. Have you ever tried wrapping your head around your own insignificance? It's maddening Junhee, and most of the time I just run away from these thoughts altogether by choosing to become unfeeling, to have no empathy because it hides my own helplessness to the norms of the world. And maybe that's our difference, I don't really have your blind courage."

"You won't know it unless you actually try "

Yifan gave her an ambiguous smile. "I already did. You made me do it."

And Yifan had been thinking why fate had deliberately almost too precisely, put Junhee at such a place where Yifan could not have missed her. His utter lust thickened attraction was only bait for all the sudden realizations she evoked within him. Yifan thought that whoever had the final say up there must have had enough of his uselessness because Junhee gave him purpose. She made him feel alive

//

  
"Thank you, I really enjoyed tonight."  
  
Yifan leaned into her space and left a chaste peck on her forehead. "You're welcome. And thank you too for actually wanting to have dinner with me."

Yifan actually found the situation quite odd. There he was —the most promiscuous person he knew —standing at the doorstep of the woman who'd been plaguing his mind, acting like a boy dropping off his date on his first prom night. If it were any other person Yifan would've already found himself tearing at another's clothes, ready to bang the night away. Merrily, if he must.

But even faced with all these nuances, Yifan was convinced that it was worth it. He wasn't compelled to crave carnal pleasure because the buzzing in his nerves was enough indication of how pleased he actually was. His chest felt light, an ease he hadn't experienced in a very long while now.

He watched as Junhee stood on her tiptoes and pressed a simple kiss against the side of his mouth. "Good night Yifan."

And as Yifan watched her person disappear behind a closed door, another truth dawned upon him.

He missed her already.

//

Kyungsoo scratched at his skin. The scorching hot water was raw against his abused flesh but Kyungsoo did not stop rubbing like he had invisible grime all over his body. Images of the past hour flitted through his mind and it made him sick.

He was usually better than this but there are times when shame was almost too palpable, Kyungsoo could suffocate in it. He abhorred the feeling the most.

Once he's done, the escort immediately dressed, grabbed the money that was left for him on the bedstand and made a beeline toward the exit like a man running for his life. Kyungsoo hadn't ceased speed walking until he was solitary inside the posh looking elevator, headed downwards to the hotel's lobby. Kyungsoo was weary, the ache settling deep into his bones and it had forced him to cross the lobby as lethargically as possible.

He was beginning to really hate the opulent Imperial Palace Seoul. Something about the place made him uncomfortable, made his skin crawl.

Kyungsoo normally counted his blessings but right now, he really loathed life.

"Kyungsoo?"

The palm on his shoulder had been the only warning he'd received before a force had spun him around. Kyungsoo welcomed the familiar scent and did not think a second when he slumped against the man's chest, letting out a shuddering breath.

Kyungsoo felt Jongin before he actually saw the man and relief... sweet, sweet relief flooded within him. He was not really sure what had instigated his reaction and Kyungsoo did not have enough mental capacity to process his emotions at that moment. All he wanted was to curl up beside this man, Jongin, who'd been invading his thoughts the very moment they met.

"Jongin, please I —" The man would have hated how pathetic he sounded. He was begging but Kyungsoo was so exhausted, so weak and he felt as bad as he probably looked, maybe even worse. He needed someone, anyone to ground him and that unfortunate someone was Jongin.

Jongin pressed his palms on both sides of Kyungsoo's face and slightly pushed the shorter to survey what had become of him. Kyungsoo noticed a dark look flit upon Jongin's countenance before it disappeared, concern taking its place.

"Let's head upstairs."

Kyungsoo merely nodded.

 

Jongin wanted to ask questions. He stared at Kyungsoo who was clad in his clothes. Jongin had to pretend that the horrifying bruises under the man's collar and around his biceps were only a figment of Jongin's imagination but it was there, some of them were violent purple and Jongin badly wanted to hurt the fucking bastard who'd done this to Kyungsoo.

Jongin had his own suspicions but his lips remained shut opting to stash his questions for another time when Kyungsoo looked less shaken. Jongin stood up, rounded the table until he reached Kyungsoo's end. "Hyung?"

Kyungsoo looked up and gave him a pained smile and Jongin had not missed the desperation in those eyes. Kyungsoo leaned against Jongin's abdomen, his fingers found purchase on Jongin's shirt. For a few jarring seconds, Jongin had done nothing but stand there and let Kyungsoo gather himself.

"Hey, hyung." Jongin said, his fingers weaving through Kyungsoo's dark brown tresses. "Let's go to sleep. You need rest."

Kyungsoo nodded and quietly stood up. Jongin led him to his bedroom where he watched as Kyungsoo mutely occupied the other side of the wide bed before Jongin took his place. They were swathed in relative darkness, the only thing Jongin could hear was Kyungsoo's constant exhaling. Jongin wanted to touch him, make sure he was alright but on the contrary he also did not want to aggravate the situation. But then after a few minutes of nothing, Jongin sensed Kyungsoo as he gently shifted into Jongin's personal space and curled against his side. Jongin found no hesitancy as he pulled the other into a tight embrace, his chest against Kyungsoo's face.

"I'm sorry."

The words were mumbled against the fabric of Jongin's shirt but he heard it all the same. "There's nothing to apologize for, Kyungsoo. Go to sleep."

Jongin, up until that moment, knew that Kyungsoo had a tough exterior. He went against the world every damn day and Jongin found him completely awe inspiring but then again Kyungsoo was still human and his tough exterior very much accounted for how vulnerable he was inside. But somehow, this insignificant show of weakness made Kyungsoo look stonger, after all, it takes just as much courage to admit that the world bears down on you sometimes; it takes courage to admit that you are helpless.

He was breathing against Jongin and Jongin held him tighter without knowing why he felt, yet again, that gaping hole on his chest that caused him misery.

Sleep did not come any easier to Jongin that night.

 

Kyungsoo awoke to soft cotton sheets against his face. He blearily opened his eyes while his mind processed the familiar room he was currently in. Kyungsoo was positive that he'd slept in Jongin's bedroom. After his show of pathetic weakness last night, one that Jongin unfortunately became audience to, Kyungsoo could not stop the sudden embarrassment that was clawing at his skin. He quickly left the bed, consequently losing his balance. Kyungsoo groaned as he slipped and met the floor. He had not been expecting the onslaught of pain that was inching down his short frame like burning needles.

"Fuck!" Came the seething snarl. "Fucking client —fuck!"

Jongin chose to enter his bedroom and Kyungsoo wanted to shrivel up as he picked himself off of the floor.

"It's so early and you're already swearing for the whole hotel to hear."

There was a small smirk on Jongin's beautiful face and Kyungsoo wanted to punch and kiss him at the same time. In the end he just groaned and slowly inched (as much as the pain his battered body could tolerate) toward the exit. He could not meet Jongin's eyes. "Thank you for last night, can you give me my clothes?"

"I'm getting them dry cleaned. Go have breakfast first and maybe get some ice on those nasty bruises."

Kyungsoo was thankful that Jongin did not ask questions about how exactly he got said nasty bruises.

"Okay."

"Good."

  
Kyungsoo, during the rare times he found himself in Jongin's penthouse suite, never actually stayed too long for the awkward morning after regardless if something or nothing happened the night before. To understate things, he was completely uncomfortable as he occupied a seat on the dining table of which a hefty English breakfast was laid upon. Kyungsoo's stomach grumbled — probably roared in protest because Jongin was directing him an amused look. Kyungsoo picked a plate and speared a slice of Belgian waffle onto it. He then smeared cream cheese and pureed blue berries on top of the waffle. The messy creation was simply mouth watering. Jongin was watching him eat and if Kyungsoo were not starving, it probably would have embarrassed him.

"I was not sure what you liked, hyung so I got one of everything." Jongin put down his ceramic mug and finally grabbed a plate for himself. "But I happen to love some waffles in the morning too. Coffee? Do you want coffee?"

"Sure."

"Guess it's an unspoken thing between us to only drink tea when we're wasted as hell. Oops — now it's not unspoken anymore, my bad."

Kyungsoo chuckled as he poured coffee for himself. "I really don't like. It tastes so fucking bad."

"But it sobers up drunkards."

"I could say that about you, I'm not sure about everyone else though."

"I'm sure it does the same, or maybe the complete opposite. Some people probably would not want to drink brewed leaves when they're shitfaced."

"True."

Kyungsoo found the situation oddly domestic, it placated his mind somehow. "Hey Jongin."

"Hmm?"

"About last night. Thank you, really."

"It's okay, hyung. You can crash here anytime you want."

"Are you really not planning to leave this place?"

"I'm not really sure. I kinda like it here. But we'll see, Yifan asked me to use his Beach front house in Busan, want to come?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm indirectly asking you to come with me on a vacation. Just you and I and maybe Yifan and his current conquest, in some big ass house secluded in a private beach away from Seoul? Sound good?"

"It should be good. Thanks for asking Jongin, but you and I both know I can't."

"And why the hell not? Friends spend vacations together, you might not know Yifan that much but I promise he doesn't bite, you'll get along well. Come on Kyungsoo, it's just four days. We both need a break."

"Jongin I —"

"Please?"

Kyungsoo sighed. "Alright, fine you're paying for everything though."

"Of course. Well finish breakfast and let's go."

"Where to?"

"To vacation of course, where else?"

Kyungsoo suddenly stood up, flabbergasted. "But Jongin, it's too soon. I need to place a call, I just can't go AWOL from work."

"Don't worry about Black Rose, I've cleared you. And before you go apeshit on me, I did it because I knew I would have compelled you to agree. And if you don't like the prospects of me paying for you, it's fine, you could pay me back."

Somehow Kyungsoo, was not expecting for Jongin to have done such a thing. But deep inside Kyungsoo knew it was the most practical thing to do to give him leeway. And Jongin hadn't paid for his very straightforward 'services'. Kyungsoo convinced himself that nothing was going to happen between them. He'd already slept twice on Jongin's bed and he woke up well rested without abhorring everything about himself. Yes, Jongin meant well and Kyungsoo needed a temporary escape.

He needed it very badly or he was going to suffocate to death. Kyungsoo did not say anything else all the while ignoring the tightening in his chest. This wasn't right.

Run, his mind supplied, run before your emotions get the best of you, run lest you want to drown.

"I'll call Taekwoon first, the café could do with a new singer for a few days."

//

The wintry November air bit at Jongin's skin and it made him shiver. Kyungsoo looked at his quivering frame and tightened the scarf around his neck. "Thanks."

Jongin smiled and grasped Kyungsoo's thin wrist, "Why'd Yifan offer to bring me to a beach house on the beginnings of November, I will never know. But anyway, let's go inside. It's freezing."

The beach house was an elaborate thing. It was a two storey edifice made of smooth concrete painted a light gray. Its walls were thick, transparent glass. The beach house had a minimalist lounging area and on the top floor, connected to the main hallway was an infinity pool that faced the sea. The beach itself was completely devoid of the markings of commercialization. It was private and completely in it's beautiful natural state. Behind the house was a few acres of property that according to Jongin, Yifan never bothered to deal with. It looked densely packed with shrubberies and trees, like a mini forest. The modern beach house looked completely out of place in the area but the contrast worked wonders.

Generally the place looked very enticing and even without the prospects of swimming (or waddling) into the frigid water, Kyungsoo began to look forward to his four days of freedom. When they've entered the living room, four people were already engaged in an amicable discussion, they were comfortably seated on the sofas and their entrance wasn't noticed until one beautiful, familiar woman beckoned them over with a smile on her face. Kyungsoo wanted to run and as he glanced at Jongin beside him, he could also tell that the man wanted to flee.

Because right there, seated in the well lighted, extravagant sitting room were four people, only one of whom did not strike a name to Kyungsoo's mind.

"Oh good, you've finally arrived!"

Kyungsoo was now unsure if his four days were going to be any different. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean to romanticize pediatric cancer in anyway. Yifan and Junmyeon (junhee) are very much representations of myself and i've incorporated all the things i am concerned with into their characters. I wanted to spread pediatric cancer awareness, even just a little. 
> 
> Anyway this fic is Kaisoo and genderbent Krisho almost equally, bc i cant really write without throwing krisho in there bc i am trash for them. Oops. Leave a comment and well throw bricks?


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware for the krisho part in this is extremely fluffy and diabetes inducing. Completely self indulgent please don't hurt me.

The group's dinner that night did not go as Kyungsoo expected. What he thought was going to be a pleasant, thoroughly amicable supper between strangers turned friends had been totally wrought with undisputed tension. Kyungsoo could almost feel the invisible sparks of electricity from where he sat beside Jongin.

Thankfully, Junhee, the blonde woman who was totally unfamiliar to Kyungsoo looked thoroughly unbothered (or was rather pretending to ignore) the apparent unease between Jongin and Taemin. She instigated merry conversations which only Yifan seemed to be interested in. Joohyun, Taemin's wife, flitted confounded glanced back and forth from Taemin to Jongin.

Kyungsoo almost wanted to laugh at the whole absurdity of the situation.

When the uncomfortable dinner was a done deal, Jongin had been the first one to flee the table with a concise nod, a vapid stare and nothing else. Kyungsoo wanted to stand up and follow him since he was technically the outsider in their set-up but Yifan speared him a knowing glance and Kyungsoo understood that the man wanted him to stay and let Jongin simmer in his barely concealed ire for the mean time.

"Say Kyungsoo, what exactly is your relationship with Jongin — I don't mean to be rude and all but for all the years that I've known Jongin, you're the only person I've seen him with, twice."

Kyungsoo froze on his seat, the grip on his utensils suddenly tightening, his skin pulled taught and pale against his knuckles. Should he tell Junhee the truth? What would they think of him?

Stop.

Kyungsoo hardly cared about the nature of his job. He did not think twice about admitting the truth when people asked him of it. He could not wrap his head around the sudden realization that he cared about what Jongin's acquaintances thought of him, of their technically non-existent relationship. That was the only truth here, there was no Jongin and Kyungsoo, they were not dating, hell they could not even be called friends sans the fact that Kyungsoo had slept with him twice without regretting it.

Somehow, the incongruous reality brought a subtle bout of pain to Kyungsoo. He hated himself for constantly having misplaced emotions for all the wrong people. In the end, his own fanciful dreams and naivete cause him nothing but misery, a feeling that could be akin to drowning in thin air.

Kyungsoo loathed it, loathed it so much.

"We're not dating," Kyungsoo began to say, "We're friends, I guess."

Junhee looked at him with such a knowing expression and Kyungsoo could not help the embarrassment that was slowly creeping from his neck. What if she knew that he was nothing but a prostitute? What if —

"You're his current lover aren't you?"

_I wish I were._

"No, we're just friends Junhee ssi, really."

"Come on Kyungsoo, don't be too embarrassed about dating Jongin. He's had a couple hundred past lovers —" Yifan chuckled at this. "But Jongin's a good man."

"There's nothing between us." And Kyungsoo was sure that he was trying to convince himself of this fact as well. He can't let his head suffocate in the lofty clouds of imaginations that he'd conjured for himself.

"Well, if you say so. Anyway, let's go have the cake Joohyun made."

Kyungsoo merely nodded as he quietly excused himself from the table.

//

"Jongin?"

The man festooned on the bed, spread rather languidly upon deep blue sheets, looked up and said. "Hey."

"Do you want to have cake?"

"Not really Kyungsoo, thank you."

Kyungsoo stood and leaned against the door and mutely watched Jongin as the younger stared at the sculpted ceiling above him. The both of them stayed as silent as possible. Kyungsoo wanted to tell him to stop thinking about Taemin, that Taemin could not possibly return his adoration because he was clearly more than in love with his wife. Kyungsoo had seen how the singer looked at Joohyun, and their eyes conveyed more than adoration. They shared something utterly precious between them. Kyungsoo could not put his finger on it but he knew if something could transcend love, Taemin and Joohyun already have it and for this Kyungsoo knew that Jongin had no place in the man's heart no matter how hard he tried. Jongin just put himself on danger like a vulnerable prey to his own mind and demons.

Jongin might have acted and told Kyungsoo that he was done pining over Taemin and that he was no longer an obsequious child who very much repined at the notion of not obtaining something he has longed for. The world won't bend to his whims, he said, but Jongin did not need the world, he needed Taemin.

Instead Kyungsoo slowely treaded over feeling like he was walking on metaphorical egg shells. He did not understand why he thought so much of Jongin's feelings, why he cared too much more than he'd like to admit.

"You okay?"

Jongin gave him a weak smile and a small sigh. "Yeah, just pretty surprised. Have I told you that Yifan's a terrible friend?"

"You did."

A poignant silence washed over them before Jongin inhaled and directly expressed what was plaguing his mind. "Why can't I let him go, Kyungsoo?"

The question had a simple answer and Kyungsoo felt like it was going to choke him if he answered.

"Because you've always loved him and you never stopped."

A bespoke silence fell upon them. Kyungsoo somehow regretted his words but they were the truth that Jongin needed to process.

"I want to stop."

"Then stop running away from him. You'll never learn how to stop because you can't even grasp the depth of what you feel for him. You're buried chest deep into a quicksand of your own making Jongin, and it's not easy to claw your way free, you'll just keep sinking until you learn how to stop being afraid."

"But the thing is, I'm not just chest deep into this quicksand hyung." Jongin's tone was as unemotional as his vapid stare. "I've drowned in it and I can't move, can't breathe — I can't do anything to save myself."

And if only Kyungsoo could pull him up from his own sinking demise, Kyungsoo would. Kyungsoo would risk sinking into his own quicksand, he would risk everything to free Jongin from his.

//

The next morning was a mundane affair.

Kyungsoo rouse to the sudden penetrating chill against his bones. There was a small pounding in his head that caused him to evoke a pained noise as he rolled out of bed.

Wait. Bed?

Mildly confused, Kyungsoo looked around and noticed how alone he was in the room. However he was duly positive that he'd crashed on the couch yesternight after playing a game of beer pong with the rest of the occupants of the house. He'd coaxed Jongin out of the room too. After their small peptalk, the apparent tension that had been present at the dinner bled out. Taemin and Jongin still can't direct a word to each other but at least they could breathe in the same room.

The escort left the room after pulling another sweater upon his slightly chilled frame. There was chatter in the living room and he'd noticed that the general noise came from Junhee and Yifan. They looked thoroughly enthused in their conversation which Kyungsoo found hard to fathom.

Jongin was sitting by the bar counter when he'd seen Kyungsoo, he beckoned him over with a nod and Kyungsoo gladly acquiesced.

"Good morning."

"Mornin'" Came Kyungsoo's gruff reply, his voice hoarse and scratchy at best it almost embarrassed him. Joohyun milled about in the kitchen before she calmly placed a steaming porcelain of delectable coffee in front of Kyungsoo. It smelled too tempting, its familiar, soothing aroma clamored against the tendrils of sleep that was fighting a losing battle with Kyungsoo's consciousness.

"Do you want cream with that Kyungsoo?"

Kyungsoo shook his head and gave her an appreciative sleepy grin. Joohyun returned his gaze, her hazel eyes warm and kind as she expected his answer. "It's okay, I like it black."

She nodded her understanding and turned to what she was busily doing before Kyungsoo stepped into the kitchen. Behind his huge, coffee mug Kyungsoo studied her dutifully.

Joohyun was a thoroughly beautiful woman with obvious fine breeding. Kyungsoo had previously noticed that she talked with a veiled elegance that seemed to emanate within her all the while managing to keep her air of amicable frankness. Kyungsoo wanted to kick himself for having ill preconceived notions of her, he was secretly glad that she was disproving him right in his face without knowing.

Currently, Kyungsoo watched as she traipsed around the place with inherent expertise and handled the electronic contraptions without giving it much of a second thought. She cooked well too. The coffee Kyungsoo had been sipping tasted as delectable as it looked like and Kyungsoo happened to believe that people who make good coffee also make good food. Taemin had been fortunate, or in retrospect, they're both blessed to have landed each other.

Kyungsoo suddenly averted his gaze when he'd deemed that he'd been staring at Joohyun quite inappropriately. Instead the escort shifted his gaze and directed it on the man beside him. Jongin was the picture of complete calm repose, his chin propped up on top of one tanned palm while the deft digits of his other hand danced on the rim of his coffee cup like nimble fairies.

Kyungsoo wondered what was on his mind and for a moment he stilled and watched Jongin as he languidly sipped his coffee. He was completely impervious when Taemin stepped foot into the premises, however Jongin's visceral reaction was the complete opposite. His eyes shuttered and Kyungsoo could hear his sharp intake of breath.

Taemin was still half asleep as he swayed his way to Joohyun, his arms wrapped around her svelte waist without a second hesitation. "Mornin' love." Followed by a short press of lips on the woman's cheeks and Joohyun's innocuous protests mechanically cleared Taemin's cobwebbed mind. The knowledge that they were not alone in the kitchen dawned upon him as he pulled away from their domestic embrace.

Jongin stayed rooted on his seat, his position still as calm. "Good morning."

Taemin volleyed the weak greeting with his scratchy morning voice, managing to mirror Jongin's weak grin.

Kyungsoo surveyed the peculiarly normal exchange for a moment until the stillness was broken by Junhee's poignant voice which preceeded her appearance in the kitchen.

"The floor's warm here."

Yifan followed the petite blonde into the area with a solemn look. "I guess the heating for the pool's doing something to the heating in the ground floor."

"Why'd you put the pool on the top floor anyway?"

"Don't ask me." Yifan smiled bemusedly, "I just agreed to whatever plans the professionals offered."

"You should have hired me then."

"I wish we've met earlier for that."

Beside Kyungsoo, Jongin playfully scoffed at the taller's statement. "You're really serious about this one, noona? You do know why Sehun never introduced you two, do you?"

Yifan rolled his eyes at him. "Like you're any better Nini."

"Tsk."

Kyungsoo watched the friendly banter with slight amusement, not wanting to admit to himself that seeing Jongin's laidback countenance put his heart at peace.

//

Jongin drove unnecessarily fast, rubber scratching harshly against frigid asphalt. His mind was muddled, thoughts thinly clouded with pain. Jongin knew Kyungsoo was watching him but the man's lips remained transiently shut throughout the ride.   
  
The silence was surprisingly calm.

Kyungsoo's words hung upon the vestiges of his mind like a constant nightmare. Jongin could not even begin to be surprised how Kyungsoo could read him so easily, he was an open book with its words dripping like liquid out of its pages.

_"You'll keep sinking until you stop being afraid."_

But then again, Jongin thought, how can a a thing —a person — sink when it has long drowned?

But the thing is, Jongin hasn't drowned in his unrequited adoration. He still struggled to keep afloat, he hadn't drowned because he still could not let Taemin go. Maybe Kyungsoo was right all along, it was high time he faced the gritty reality that had been offered to him on a silver platter.

 

 

"Are you okay?"

Those were Kyungsoo's first words after Jongin parked his car in front of a questionable looking establishment. The neon signs looked like they've shorted out decades ago since the only letters glowing a dull red in club Creed were its double Es. Jongin disembarked from his car without further ado and Kyungsoo thoughtlessly clambered after him.

The interior of the edifice, as opposed to its dilapidated looking facade, looked rather…normal. It was packed from every darkened corner and a throng of people were writhing and grinding against each other on the octagonal dance floor. The scent of smoke, alcohol and sweat permeated the whole place and it came alive with the thumping bass as its heartbeat.

Kyungsoo flitted glances back and forth across the endless darkness, his eyes squinting against the varying backdrop of neon strobe lights washed amongst bodies. He followed Jongin to the dully illuminated bar counter where the petite male bartender eyed Jongin with ill concealed intent. Jongin easily volleyed the careless seduction like it was his second nature. Kyungsoo eyed him warily, and maybe with jealousy that he would not like to admit anytime soon. He hated how Jongin seemed to have an invisible placard that read "walking sex god" about his svelte being and that people were automatically magnetized to him.

Really, what could Kyungsoo say.

A minute later a glass of an oddly colored drink was laid upon Kyungsoo. It was suspiciously glowing and Kyungsoo would have rather liked to not get himself intoxicated and poisoned at the same time. But seeing as Jongin downed the drink with no unnecessary qualms whatsoever, lent Kyungsoo an unfamiliar bout of insane courage — or maybe this whole thing was just insane. The escort grabbed the glass and lifted it to his lips, it smelled fruity but it tasted like acid and something else that was highly addicting that Kyungsoo had no second thoughts when another glass was before him.

  
Kyungsoo was not sure how many glasses of the peculiar concoction he managed to down. His head felt like it was swimming in oil and when he watched Jongin leave the counter and head for the dance floor, Kyungsoo swore that all the people around them ceased to exist. Kyungsoo idly watched as Jongin started to move like the thumping bass was coming from within him.

The sight was simply stupefying with the neon lights washing over Jongin in varying tones of color. Kyungsoo's head was pounding and something about the way Jongin was dancing was extremely riveting, Kyungsoo ambled over his eyes never processing the mass of bodies that was undulating from all sides of the area, all he saw was Jongin.

And Jongin was a paradigm to beauty; Kyungsoo wanted to touch him.

 

  
This was it the moment where Jongin finally learned to let go.

And like every other thing in Jongin's life this was another that required of him, a tedious process —Jongin liked to think it was a tedious process because it made his head hurt and it felt like his heart was being clawed out by the mere thought of it.

Human beings liked to think that they've sharpened the art of bravery, or at least the pretense of it. But in reality we're all cowards when faced with the real menace. But through our evolution we've learned how to cushion all kinds of blows, shield ourselves from all kinds of menace. We numbed ourselves, we destroyed it, we forgot it.

Jongin? Well Jongin was no different and he was in pain — the kind that showed no physical qualities but felt deeply nontheless — and alcohol is a suffering man's best friend and unfortunately, Jongin rather followed the same philosophy.

So there he was, drinking a few shots of a mixture he did not know the name of and waited for the pounding in his head that was to come. When it did, Jonging hauled himself to the center of the crowded place and felt the bass settle onto his skin and dig into the very centers of his bones. He closed his eyes and …forgot.

For a few short seconds, nothing and no one mattered. For a few short seconds, he danced as if his body moved of its own volition, the motions deeply embedded into him it was muscle memory. Jongin hadn't felt when searing palms gripped his waist, he forced his gaze open and saw familiar wide eyes that always seemed to look so alive. Kyungsoo pierced him with a probing gaze and for the first time since knowing Kyungsoo, Jongin finally had a good look at the man's face. Jongin's muddled brain realized that Kyungsoo was rather aesthetically beautiful. He had full lips, strong brows and skin so pale it was like pristine porcelain.

Jongin grabbed him by the waist and guided the other into some awkward semblance of dancing. Jongin did not bother about how insane they must have looked like because just as suddenly an overwhelming urge to get Kyungsoo nearer came over him. Kyungsoo made it easy by throwing his arms around Jongin's neck, they were so close that they could feel each other's clothes cling against skin. Jongin shuttered his eyes again and everyone faded into the background, even the screeching music softened and Jongin could acutely hear his blood rushing in his ears.

Kyungsoo was too close but Jongin wanted him closer.

 

Kyungsoo had been expecting this to happen. Even his intoxicated mind knew that at this moment, Jongin will use him like a slap on band aid to cover some gashing wound that was bleeding him to death. Kyungsoo was his temporary recluse from reality and the escort would have hated Jongin so much for this, but he was a prostitute who fell so fucking fast nothing could possibly pull him back up. What were the odds?

Kyungsoo never bothered to know why he was so attracted to Jongin but as the man pushed him against the closed door of a filthy bathroom stall the reason came so startingly fast: Kyungsoo was attracted to Jongin's brokenness, to Jongin's sadness which he desperately tried to mask until it was leaking out of his very pores. Kyungsoo was attracted to Jongin's vulnerability because it made him seem a lot more human. And he was not this big unreachable person, he was just …Jongin. And at least Kyungsoo could offer something that could alleviate Jongin's pain, even if Kyungsoo put himself on the line, it was okay.

Jongin's heated lips against Kyungsoo's cold neck was a foreign yet familiar sensation. Kyungsoo keened at the touch and let out an unstable, quiet moan. "Please." He pulled Jongin closer, letting his hands wander against the expanse of Jongin's sculpted back. Jongin's hands trailed down, his nails digging crescents into Kyungsoo's waist. "Kyungsoo."

The man slightly tilted his head back and Kyungsoo was met with intoxication swimming in the depths of Jongin's blown irises. How can a situation be so wrong yet at the same time, so unbelievably right?

Kyungsoo was so fucked.

Kyungsoo did not think when he grasped Jongin's midnight tresses and pulled back just slightly. With what force remained in his body, he pushed Jongin by his shoulder and maneuvered him around. Jongin's back hit the door where Kyungsoo previously found himself trapped against and with one precarious movement Kyungsoo leaned in and fused their lips together. It was so horrifyingly beautiful; Kyungsoo adored it.

Jongin's lips tasted like the sweetest part of heaven and the hottest circle of hell. Kissing him was salvation and damnation at the same time. Kyungsoo wanted to beg him for mercy.

'Why can't it be me?'

Jongin never bothered to fight back as Kyungsoo pressed his lips against him firmer, painting his intentions as clear as day. Kyungsoo was fighting a losing battle with himself and there he was gladly accepting his personal damnation with arms wide open. Jongin kissed back, his lips moving like it wanted to own Kyungsoo's, the latter did not back down try as he might to have the upper hand in their current situation to try and save the last strands of his pride. Jongin moaned against Kyungsoo's mouth and this gave the escort leeway to slide his tongue into Jongin's heated mouth. Kyungsoo could taste the alcohol coupled with bitter desperation and longing for a person that wasn't him.

When they part, Kyungsoo let out an unsteady exhale in time with Jongin's weak whimper. Their foreheads were pressed together, Kyungsoo's palms found their way to Jongin's cheeks and he held it there almost tenderly with so much adoration he even surprised himself, while Jongin found purchase on the thin material of Kyungsoo's shirt. "Hyung."

Kyungsoo kissed him again just to shut him and the demons in Kyungsoo's mind up. "Please don't say anything. Please —"

_'Please don't think of him. Please, just please I beg of you.'_

What could two miserable people gain from each other? Nothing but empathy in its purest form, because no one but miserable people could grasp the gravity of each other's misery.

And maybe Kyungsoo was even more miserable than Jongin.

  
//

Jongin felt suspiciously at ease. He had rinsed the acid in his tongue and changed into loose clothes, his muscles were a bit sore but nothing that could be exacerbated.

Kyungsoo was spread upon Jongin's bed and Jongin did nothing but stare at Kyungsoo's prone form. The man's face, even in sleep, painted a picture of unsaid distress. Jongin wanted to untangle the messy gossamer of Kyungsoo's dreams and let him sleep in peace. The man deserved that at least.

The past days have been extremely mentally and emotionally strenuous to Jongin because he's now trapped amongst people who's causing him unrest and they were forcing him to tread head on without any precautions. It was like heading to battle with nothing to protect himself. He was a mess.

The memory of Kyungsoo's lips still burned at Jongin's flesh. He did not understand what spurned Kyungsoo to do that, to kiss him like he wanted Jongin to forget everything. They've already slept with each other twice but never kissed, Kyungsoo did not want it and Jongin respected his wishes. But earlier happened and Jongin was sure that Kyungsoo instigated it. He must have looked so pathetic that Kyungsoo wanted to distract him from his own suffocating thoughts.

Jongin chuckled sarcastically. He stood up and headed for his bed and with no second thoughts he laid beside Kyungsoo and gathered the man closer to his person. Kyungsoo stirred at the action but produced no coherent reaction opting instead to plant his face right between the juncture of Jongin's neck and shoulder. Jongin held him tighter and went to sleep.

  
//

"I still think it was impulsive of you to just put Taemin and Jongin under one roof without telling them. It's not like they're children who needed coaxing to play nice."

Their dinner at this seafood restaurant was one of many that Yifan had with Junhee. Ever since their first supper together, they'd been eating out together almost on a regular basis. Nothing else really happened but Yifan quite liked their simple dinner dates, he got to know a lot about Junhee's life and it was gratifying to spend time with such a beautiful woman.

Yifan placed more food on Junhee's plate his brows were furrowed. "I had no choice. And it was just my last ditch attempt to help them figure things out. It was getting out of hand."

"But look at them Yifan, they seemed even more awkward than before. It's unnerving me — will you please stop shoving more crab meat onto my plate, yes thank you but I can do it myself — and Joohyun's not saying anything but I am positive she already has an inkling of what's going on."

Yifan looked sheepish. "But this is one tough ass crab, I don't want you to hurt those dainty fingers...but yeah, you're probably right. But I'm just concerned okay. I should not have interfered but a good friend has to be  bad sometimes if the situation calls for it."

"I just hope that they fix whatever it is —Yah! I told you I can do it myself. "

Yifan just smiled at her annoyance. "Okay, okay. Fine I'll stop."

Yifan wiped his soiled fingers and folded his arms upon the table as he watched the woman eat. Junhee having noticed the weight of his gaze leveled it with her own. There was a muted questioning in her eyes so Yifan averted his vision with a playful chuckle and glanced instead at the shimmering sea beautifully displayed before them. He shivered. It was a cold night out but Junhee had asked him to go eat at some seafood restaurant since he's managed to coax her to Busan anyway and they ought not miss out on some delicious seafood.

She was bundled up in a big red scarf and a thick sweater under her white trench coat. She looked adorable as she chewed considerably upon steamed crab meat. "But seriously this is delicious."

Yifan merely reached out, ruffled her messy blonde locks and smiled at her. "And you're really adorable." She colored just a bit slightly and Yifan was extremely proud of himself for such an accomplishment. He admits, he was slowly going crazy for this woman.

And he was shockingly fine with that, actually he won't have it any other way.

 

In the earliest days of November, most beaches in Busan weren't as packed as it usually would, like in the summer. Some people erected volleyball nets and gathered around beach fires for warmth.

It was a pleasant chilly evening and with Junhee silently basking in the wintry air, Yifan realized that the night was practically perfect. No words were exchanged but Yifan quite appreciated the comfortable silence as his soles slightly sank into the sand. All of this was somewhat, therapeautic.

  
Junhee huddled into him, pressing herself against Yifan. She was tiny and Yifan was going to have a heart attack at the perfect manifestation of adorable."It's cold." Yifan wrapped long arms about her short frame. "But you told me you wanted to walk."

"Yes but it's freezing —you planned this didn't you?"

"Nope." Yifan chuckled into her crown as his embrace tightened, "But I guess everything's worth it if I get to hug you. You're so tiny."

"I'm not a giant like you are."

Yifan did not say anything else and just watched her as she grasped his sweater and stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ears. "Can we have coffee please. It's so damn cold." Yifan swore she'd done it on purpose to rile him up, Junhee was probably on a mission to kill him, goddamn it.

Yifan squeezed her tighter before relinquishing his hold. "God, you're impossible Kim Junhee." Said woman merely smiled at him. "Can we get coffee now please?"

 

"One americano, one strawberry café latté. Enjoy your drinks sir."

Yifan took the tray with their drinks and headed for the table where Junhee sat before. The man had not noticed a heavy gaze on him as he was too concentrated with bringing Junhee's americano to their table. Yep, he was not much of a bitter coffee fan, he preferred the sweetened drinks better. And what could possibly be better than overly sugary coffee and strawberries, he ought to try it out.

Junhee beamed as she received her steaming Americano and as the softened scent of strawberry wafted toward her a look of mild confusion crossed her face. "Why does your coffee suspiciously smell like berries?"

Yifan took one sip of the delectable drink and true to its almost boastful advertisement, the coffee indeed tasted uniquely good. Yifan had a preconceived notion about it tasting so unlike its flowery description so the impeccable taste was a nice surprise. The latté was sweet with the right bitter caffeine punch and the strawberries gave it a softened after taste. "They call it strawberry latte. Want some?"

Junhee nodded and Yifan carefully placed his cup before her. She took one sip from the drink and her nose crinkled as she put it back down. "That's too sweet." Yifan smiled, amused. "I didn't think you'd prefer your coffee sweeter."

"I don't even like a macc—"

"Wu Yifan?"

Yifan, a bit surprised at the sudden voice that beckoned him, spilled some of his drink on the glass lamination of the table. He hissed at the scorching heat that managed to lick at his finger before turning around to meet the stranger. A petite woman —not to mention pleasantly pretty — smiled at him and Yifan had to rack his brains for some sort of face to name recognition. It was a futile attempt for it gave him no knowledge of ever knowing this woman but one look at her proved she'd known him from somewhere.

Which means she had been one of the many people he'd laid on a bed with. Damn, goddamn. Yifan would have brushed it as nothing, it wasn't unusual for his conquests to acknowledge him if they ever met again, even randomly. It would have been fine at any given time, but he's with Kim Junhee!

Wait, why did he even care that much?

"Uhm, yeah hi—"

"I'm Yoona, do you remember? From the art gallery."

Okay so she belongs to Yifan's many one night lovers that began with his art fascination. Alright, great he was still doomed.

Yoona's eyes glanced upon Junhee who surveyed the situation with an amused nonchalance. She smiled at Yoona and the woman returned it quite warmly. Yoona must have connected the dots now even though technically, he and Junhee were just friends in the most literal sense of the word, they still painted a picture that proved more than one conclusion.

Junhee stunned him by extending an arm for Yoona to take — which she did — and elegantly introduced herself as, "I'm Kim Junhee, I'm his girl friend."

Yifan was thankful he had nothing in his mouth or he would have choked.

"Oh," The sad drop in Yoona's tone was even more astounding. Why should she be surprised? It was a known fact among the inner circles of the society which Yifan belonged in that he never took relationships quite seriously. Even during the time they met (even though he could not remember when, for the love of him) Yifan was probably the same. "Good luck to the both of you then. It was nice seeing you again, Yifan ssi."

She turned and disappeared as fast as she emerged.

Yifan did not want to address his current predicament. Yoona's unnerved reaction honestly stupefied him. Yifan never really dated exclusively (hell he even stopped dating a few months ago). Sure he was a smooth talker who spoke flowery lies to people willing to be fooled and according to most, a great lover in bed. But 'love' Yifan never told a soul the word 'love', or even the mere thought of telling someone he loved them. The word just held so much promises in it, so much depth that Yifan could not and never grasp and he was not willing to fool people with promises, especially those he could not keep. Yifan can fool another with any saccharine words, they would know it had been nothing but sugarcoated lies but they'd still willingly tumble in bed with him.

Was it his fault?

All he knew is the fact that uttering a thoughtless 'i love you' could be akin to blasphemy. He'd given his body countless times but his heart, Yifan never broke a piece of it for just anyone, he did not want to.

So everything was justified —a body for another —so why did Yifan feel like his conscience wasn't cleared?

Was it really his fault?

 

The encounter washed all the traces of sweetened strawberry and in lieu left a bitter taste in Yifan's mouth. He ruminated over Yoona's downcast and saddened reaction to Junhee's careless and false announcement and it made his head pound until they entered the beach house again. So far Junhee had not addressed what she meant and Yifan had no energy to probe her now, maybe Yifan would confront her about it tomorrow.

"Thank you for tonight, Yifan."

Yifan nodded and left for his room where he laid wide awake on his bed, thinking, thinking and just thinking. Was he hurting people? Yifan screwed his eyes shut but sleep never came to him even after what felt like hours.

A knock on his door followed by Junhee's soft voice forced Yifan's sleepless eyes open. He eyed the door before standing up to inquire of what Junhee needed. She was clad in a loose shirt and some striped pyjamas when Yifan opened the door. Her hair fell in messy tangles from her head yet Yifan still found her as equally mesmerizing. The sight of her almost cleared the thoughts in his mind that was causing him unrest. "Can I sleep here? It's still so dreadfully cold in my room."

Yifan let her in. "Of course. Take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch."

Junhee grasped his shirt and shook her head. "Let's just share the bed, it's wide enough and I'm pretty sure you could hold it in."

Yifan stared at her aghast. "But Junhee —"

"Please?"

Oh god, he thought, she was really going to kill him. "Alright, alright. Let's go to sleep." Junhee sleepily nodded and walked towards the bed, letting the deep scarlet sheets catch her being. Yifan looked at her form and his heart started pounding too hard like it wanted to escape the confines of his ribcage. He treaded carefully and occupied the other side of the bed, a good three feet between the two of them. He could not coax himself to move any further for fear of offending her.

But Junhee felt the distance and brought it upon herself to remove those three feet between them. She scooted closer to Yifan's side. "Do I still make you feel anything?"

Yifan gave up and threw bits of his self control out of the window as he gently pulled her closer toward him, her head cradled against his arm, one of her arm splayed upon her torso as their legs tangled together. "Yes." He whispered. "You're killing me Junhee, I swear." Junhee chuckled sleepily and remained silent for a few short seconds. "You're thinking of her aren't you?"

Yifan could feel her cold hand as it snaked under his sweater and settled above the skin of his tummy. The touch electrified him, he almost groaned. God, she was going to end him. "Yes." Yifan finally said. "Jun, can I be honest with you?"

"Sure."

Yifan inhaled, "I didn't understand her reaction about you lying about being my lover and all. She looked disappointed, it almost haunts me." Yifan buried her nose on her crown and inhaled her comforting scent. "All of my previous encounters knew about me…about how I handle relationships. Time and time again I always make it sure that I don't open any doors for their lofty expectations. I'm a bad person Junhee and they know that yet they still allow me to willingly take and take. It's always clear in the beginning but why do they always think so high of me? And Yoona just made me think of all of them and if they had their hearts broken because of their high assumptions pinned on the wrong person. It makes my head hurt."

His confession was met with silence and for a minute Yifan thought she'd succumbed to sleep but then her nimble fingers (now warmed by the heat radiating of off Yifan's skin) danced upon the hard lines of Yifan's abdomen and her lips too close, it was touching his neck. When she spoke, her lips brushed against his neck and it was too much for Yifan to hold in a low groan. He grabbed her fingers from under his clothing and tangled their digits together just that she'd stop torturing him like this. He remained silent as he gathered his scattering wits.

"Can I be honest with you too?"

"Hmmm."

"The fact that you make anything clear in the beginning does not matter Yifan because …."

"Because what?"

She inhaled before slightly raising herself so that she was now directly whispering into Yifan's neck almost near his pierced lobes. "Because you make it so easy to fall. Your sugarcoated lies are so sweet it's almost damnable how easy it is to believe them. It doesn't matter that you don't open doors for expectations, it just naturally happens with you, because you make everything so believable and I know —" a sharp inhale, "—I know because it's happening to me right at this damn moment."

Yifan let the words sink into his churning thoughts. His pulse was rushing and he could feel every small brush of Junhee's lips against his neck. He tried to hold it in and he failed so miserably. Yifan shifted, just ever so slightly and faced Junhee in the dimly illuminated room. She looked back at him. Her countenance was so unsure and so different from the usual confident persona she embodied. Yifan smiled as he leaned in and took her lips.

It was beautiful, innocent, almost chaste and Yifan enjoyed this change. And it wasn't about satiating the fire in his veins, it was about knowing what kind of emotions kissing actually evoked. As Junhee kissed him back, Yifan could feel a different kind of warmth settle into his bones, a small longing that was slowly turning into heated desperation. Yifan never felt anything like it. He raised himself and let Junhee's arms around his neck, her fingers reaching back to tug at his hair.

They parted for air and stared at each other. Yifan wanted to erase the picture of frightened ambivalence on his beautiful angel's face so he dipped down and claimed her lips again into one searing kiss. It made his heart race further, and it stirred something else. Something, dare he might say, akin to adoration. He was falling deep into Junhee's confidence and euphoric smiles, to her kindness, and courage to make a difference, to her ethereal beauty. He was falling for her beautiful soul.

And Yifan never wanted to stop falling.

"This is an honest truth." Yifan said when they part and Junhee was sleepily comfortable in his arms. "I never sugarcoat my words with you. Never." Junhee gave him no verbal answer but the small kiss into his sensitive neck.   
For the first time in Yifan's life, he slept with a woman, and slept literally. He only allowed himself to touch the bare skin of her hip, tracing inane circles onto her flesh until they both succumbed to peaceful sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for all the kaisoo angst. Its a process lol. Btw, this fic is officially the longest fic i've written for exo (how what why??) I'm thinking of changing the title into paramour but idk. Throw bricks at me or alternatively say hi. @snowmyun | @coffeejaes 
> 
> Btw I SAW EXO LAST SUNDAY OMG THEY WERE INHUMAN. JONGIN'S DANCING GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK.


	5. arc ii ; five

Pale sunlight filtered into the room cutting elongated panes with suspended dust motes into the adjacent cream painted wall.

Yifan groaned and as he shifted in his sleep, the arm wound around his middle grasped at him tighter as if it did not want him squirming about. For a second Yifan wondered who he'd gone to bed with last night but he was quite positive that there had been no one. He raised his hand intending to rub at his eyes but the long strand of pale blond hair caught in between his fingers unraveled Yifan's gossamer of a brain.

Right, Kim Junhee, beside him on his bed.

Yifan glanced at the woman who's made his whole body a pillow. Junhee's legs were strapped on top of Yifan's shins, her arms on his torso. He scented something spicy, almost like cinnamon that seemed to have clung to her heated skin. She was so, so close that Yifan abrubtly went rigid.

Thankfully, thankfully his phone which was perched upon the bed stand went off with a loud oscillating ring and Yifan has never picked up a call so fast in his life. He extended a free arm to pluck his phone from its previously unbothered state, Yifan did not even spare the caller I.D a glance so when Sehun's "Where did you take my beloved sister?!" Pierced his ear, Yifan could do nothing but cringe.

"Sehun." Yifan hissed. "I can hear you, stop screeching. It's so early in the morning."

"Wu Yifan please tell me that Kim Junhee is at least fifty meters away from you right now or else I am going to chop your neck."

Yifan let out a chuckle. "That is Yifan ge, for you Oh Sehun, you disrespectful child."

Junhee, due to the incessant noise emanating from the phone, stirred awake as she snuggled closer to Yifan. "Unfortunately, I could not say that your sister is away from me right now."

Sehun answered Yifan with a string of incomprehensible words stunted with profanities in a language Yifan was slightly familiar to. He picked up very colorful adjectives said in Sehun's heavily accented French. Yifan rolled his eyes. "Yifan ge, I swear don't you dare hurt my sist —"

Junhee tightened her embrace, inhaling at Yifan's neck. "Who's calling…it's so early in the damn morning."

"Oh my God!" Screeched Sehun from the other end of the line. "Is that noona?!"

Yifan takes the phone away, shooting a sleepy smile toward Junhee's direction. "It's your baby brother and he's pretty livid." Junhee chuckled. "Tell him to scram, we're sleeping."

"You tell him."

Junhee sighs. "Fine, give it here."

Junhee took the phone from the man and without second thoughts tapped open the front camera of the device. Once their incriminating position was displayed much to Sehun's abject horror, the younger sibling did nothing but shout. "Oh my god! Noona are you okay?"

"Sehun shut up." Junhee peeled the sheets off from her and Yifan's bodies and showed their non-existent state of undress to a digitalized face of a bewildered Sehun. "Nothing happened if that's what you're thinking. And yes, Sehun I am perfectly fine." Junhee sighed, she never understood why the protective side of Sehun seemed on at all times when it came to her. She was older yet Sehun, the younger brother, always made a point to reverse their roles. It was annoying and adorable at the same time. So mostly, Junhee just brushed it aside. " Why are you calling so early in the morning anyway?"

"Because you disappeared out of thin air. How do you expect me to not get worried?"

"Sehun, don't worry about me. I'm the big sister here, right?" Her tone was slightly indulgent and a bit condescending Yifan wondered how she made it work. "Just go fix your tie and don't forget to grab breakfast before work. You need your nutrients."

"Noona I'm not a child."

"Yeah sure you're not. I'm hanging up Sehun."

Without saying anything else, Junhee slid the end call panel and the phone died down. Yifan took the device from her grasp as she all but replaced her face between the juncture of Yifan's neck and shoulder. The silence that ensued right after was deafening. Yifan can't bring himself to move. Their position was already incriminating as it was and Yifan was tempted to return her embrace.

He can't do it.

Junhee moved away a few minutes later with a small tired sigh and Yifan immediately missed the warmth radiating off her small body.

"I'm literally all over your personal space." She chuckled, awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I thought you were as comfortable around me as I am with you."

That did it, Yifan wrapped a palm around her wrist and she fell back into the bed with a silent thud. Yifan pulled her closer into his front as if he wanted to mold the two of them into one being. "I was afraid, I'd offend you if I moved even just a bit, but you're okay with it."

"And here I was thinking that Wu Yifan would stop at nothing to get into my pants."

Yifan tangled their legs together and the intimacy and utter familiarity of the situation was almost alien but Yifan found that he did not want to move, not one bit. "You have no idea…" Yifan whispered into the golden crown of her head as he carded his fingers through her hair. "About all the things I want to do to you."

Junhee chuckled. "Trust me, I know."

Yifan felt warmth seep into his very bones. It was an odd feeling, yet Yifan basked in it.

"Jun?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's date each other, exclusively."   
  
Yifan kept his mouth shut as he awaited her answer with bated breath. To be honest the offer just came out of nowhere. Maybe he was not too fond of the idea that someone better, someone who actually deserved her would come and sweep Junhee off her feet. Not when Yifan was at that point in his life where he'd found the purpose that has evaded him for almost twenty-nine years, a purpose given to him by the very woman who was increasingly occupying such a huge space in Yifan's life.

Junhee falling for someone else, Yifan could not stomach the idea. It made him frightfully jealous.

And jealousy was dangerous.

Junhee did not answer though, not until they decided to take a dip in the pleasantly heated infinity pool and Junhee decided that it was high time to seduce the living daylights out of Yifan. The latter, who miserably failed trying to control himself, bracketed Junhee against the pool's edge and appropriately latched his lips onto hers until they ran out of breath, panting against each other.

"Sure." Junhee had said, her arms around his neck, his leg between her naked thighs and his palms dug onto the flesh of her petite waist. "My family's having its annual dinner next week. You know, something about keeping appearances, wanna be my date?"

Yifan merely nodded as he leaned forward once more and captured her lips, softly at first as Yifan tried to savor the moment. But he could feel her smile against his lips and it did nothing but drive him forward, his kiss becoming insistent and passionate as their tongues touched every heated crevice.

Yifan felt alive, so, so alive as if air was breathed into his very lungs.

"I'd be glad to." Yifan said when they part.

I would be glad to be yours.

  
//   
  
Jongin has barely seen Kyungsoo after that night in the club. It seemed like the man was evading him like he carried the plague and Jongin would have applauded Kyungsoo's talent for hiding given the fact that they were in the same house. But Jongin was almost grateful for the aversion since it took his mind off Kyungsoo, off anything for that matter. But he also did not want to admit that he missed seeing the escort. Their amicable banter was a constant reprieve for Jongin, a much needed break from the horrors of his reality that was bearing down at him from all sides.

But right now, Jongin was not looking for anything more than a genial companionship. Trying to burn aged feelings at some mental incinerator is not a glib task and Jongin was already too screwed up as it was with so much on his plate. He did not want complications with Kyungsoo, technically his saving grace, Jongin did not want to cross this vague line he'd been trampling upon the first time they fucked. But somehow, something tells him he did. He crossed this line and lead the escort onto something that Jongin was not willing to follow him to.

Jongin truly loathed his impeccably useless quality of ruining great relationships.

  
//

The kitchen was devoid of anyone's presence except for Lee Taemin. Jongin stared at his best friend who was sleepily milling about in the area. He looked half asleep like usual and the sight was enough to bring some sort of morose happiness to Jongin, as ironical as that sounded. "Taemin." Said man lethargically turned on his heel at Jongin's voice and gave him a small, ambivalent grin. "Mornin' Nini."

If it weren't for the fact that their strong friendship is now at a precarious vantage, Jongin would have smiled broadly at his nickname. He could not find himself to do that now, it was suprisingly difficult.

"Good morning." Jongin grabbed two mugs from the breakfast counter and filled them with freshly brewed coffee. He handed one porcelain to Taemin which the latter sleepily received.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The silence that ensued right after their exchange of awkward morning pleasantries sent licks of regret that lanced as sharp.

Jongin really shouldn't have said what had been said. After all he still stood on the losing end no matter what choice he made.

"Everyone's out pestering Kyungsoo for the pasta recipe he cooked last night."

"Typical of Joohyun and Yifan."

"True. I didn't know Kyungsoo cooked, what is he? A chef?"

"No, he's not."

"Oh."

Mind crippling silence. Jongin could not go on like this.

"Taemin can we talk?"

//

What do you say to someone who's broken your heart over and over again? Do you hate this person for declining to receive your adoration served on  
a silver platter? Could you even blame someone who's faultless through and through just because you were in pain?

In this case, do the means ever justify the end?

In their situation it was not even about wanting to gain the other's love. Confessing had been a sort of sick way of proving his worth. Because for Jongin, rejection is painful but apathy lances deeper and his confession deserved that right? It deserved a proper horrified reaction. At least Taemin had reacted accordingly, in a way that could never be misconstrued.

Or maybe the deepest part of Jongin still believed that he had a chance, he believed in the thinnest sliver of possibility that Taemin held something for him too. He acted upon that sliver, that one percent and tossed it all or nothing.

The end had been apparent to Jongin and yet he went ahead and threw himself out of the pan and into the fire anyway, all for this puny one percent chance of making it through. And that was why Jongin thought that love and insanity had no difference.

Funny right? Fucking hysterical.

  
The sand caved under Jongin's soles and the wintry air bit at his skin, he watched as the waves futilely tried to wash the sand.

Jongin's skin was parched and he could taste the salt on his tongue. Taemin regarded him without saying a word, his thin lips transiently shut since agreeing to this much needed talk.

"I'm sorry."

What could Jongin really say except that he's sorry.

"No, stop." Taemin was not looking at him. "You did no wrong. Stop apologizing for something you couldn't control."

Jongin chuckled sarcastically into the air. "You're not the one regretting. I ruined our friendship no matter the circumstance and what I did was unnecessary."

"But the thing is, I kind of knew Jongin. We've spent the last twelve years together and something was bound to happen. So I'm sorry, for blowing this out of proportion, for running away."

"You knew?"

Taemin's smile was melancholic. "You cornered me the night before you went abroad to get your MBA. It was in a party, we were both so fucking wasted but you told me you loved me. And I never forgot Jongin, that was four years ago."

"So it had been like this all along?"

"I didn't say anything because believe it or not, our friendship is important. You're like my brother, what if it got awkward? And I thought it was nothing but a passing feeling. And then you told me again and I just could not process it Jongin. I panicked, and for that I am really sorry."

"I guess some things are not really meant to work." The air seemed colder now, as if it was literally trying to slice his skin raw. Jongin refused to regard the knot that was forming in his throat, it was choking him but he refused to show that the walls he'd surrounded himself to protect what's left of him that hasn't been destroyed, were slowly crumbling.

Jongin was just so fucking weak, it was pathetic.

"But Jongin, I don't want this to ruin what we had. You're my best friend, my closest confidant for the last twelve years and I don't want this to come between us and what we had. And maybe it's selfish but Jongin, we're still friends right, we could still be friends."

Is friendship even possible with so much emotional baggage in between? Can Jongin even look at Taemin and curb the overwhelming desire to be closer? Can he even move on from this? In the future maybe, when he'd finally learn to let go of everything, but right now Jongin could not.   
  
Jongin smiled, sadly. "You're always my friend Taemin but right now, I can't be the same person you once knew. This changed things and for that I'm sorry, I wish that I never said it but what's done is done."

"I concluded the same."

"But as far as friendship goes, I'll always be here Taemin. Whenever you need me, I'll always be here."

The smile Taemin had given him said the same.

//

The past two days had been a complete limbo. Kyungsoo found it hard to discern reality between the images that have been plaguing his mind.

And he'd been avoiding Jongin, it was cowardly but he really had no energy to categorize whatever emotions he felt for the younger man. It was terrible for Kyungsoo's part, made his head ache with a want that bordered on need. He was starved and yet he hungered for something he could never have. What a damned life.

Kyungsoo could not recognize nor trace back the path he'd took. He'd wandered away from the beach house mindlessly walking for what seemed like hours until he stumbled upon an odd clearing with a dilapidated hut somewhere behind the bedraggled expanse of Yifan's property. Kyungsoo guessed it was a temporary worker's hut which Yifan had probably forgotten considering how unkempt the back of the beach house was.

He could not tell the time without his ancient wrist watch and he never bothered to bring a phone. Great, just great.

The weather looked terrible, storm clouds forming above the cerulean sea which had been starting to show murderous signs. Its waves crashed violently against the shore. Great, what a day to get lost.

Kyungsoo watched the dark skies and gauged the receding light, it was probably late afternoon and Junhee would have noticed he was missing by now. He'd become friends with the blonde, oddly enough. Kyungsoo was under a constant suspicion that she knew something about his and Jongin's peculiar arrangements but other than that she was more than a decent person. Kyungsoo just hoped she would not bother herself with Kyungsoo's current predicament.

The rain dropped soon and Kyungsoo found himself running to the dreary house for shelter. Water fell steadily but as the sky darkened, it pelted heavier, bullets of liquid spraying onto the grassy clearing. Kyungsoo stood unmoving by the porch silently hoping that the rain would cease, however as the minutes turn to hours and the sky darkened ultimately, Kyungsoo shelved all thoughts of finding his way back until morning. The escort stared at the ratty, wooden door and gave it a slight shove. The door, unsurprisingly, gave and Kyungsoo entered slighlty shivering. He shot his hand against the wall feeling for some kind of switch if there happened to be any light fixtures. He managed to flip on a dying emergency light which casted pale yellow into the completely dusty room. There had been nothing inside but a chair that looked on the verge of collapse. Kyungsoo opting out of it, sat onto the floor and determinedly closed his eyes as thunder struck.

  
Kyungsoo reawakens to light. The room was now completely dark —the emergency lamp must have been broken for its previously pale yellow light was now completely snuffed out — yet there was light shining through the dusty glass window from the outside. The rain was still pouring but not as violently as it had been before Kyungsoo fell asleep.

"Kyungsoo!"

Said man bolted up upon hearing the voice, he went into the door and pulled it open calling back. "Here!" Light shone on his face followed by the unmistakable sound of Jongin's voice. "Hyung!" The man took quick steps to his direction. Kyungsoo squinted into the dark and he could barely make out Jongin's harried expression. To be completely honest, Kyungsoo was not expecting anyone to go come looking for his sorry self. "Kyungsoo hyung are you alright?"

"I'm fine Jongin, I got lost. I was going to find my way back once the sun was up."

Jongin stepped into the porch, his frame was clad in a slightly wet jacket and he was armed with an umbrella. He glanced at Kyungsoo's seemingly unharmed person before handing him a flashlight. "I was worried, it's 9:30 and you weren't back and there's this winter storm going on."

Yes, the rain was still pouring in torrents and Kyungsoo wondered if they could go back in this state. "The rain's pouring so hard."

"Maybe we should stay here in the mean time, it looks like it's not letting up anytime soon."

Jongin shone the light into the house and commented, "This place looks like it's taken out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You sure there's no dead bodies in there?"

Kyungsoo laughed at the ludicrous statement. "You should ask Yifan why he never bothered to take down the worker's hut. And yes, definitely no dead bodies."

A clap of thunder followed Kyungsoo's statement and he could make out Jongin's calm expression as lightning speared the angry clouds. They went inside as soon as the rain poured harder. Kyungsoo was never bothered about being alone in small places with the elements raging around him, but somehow Jongin's presence grounded him, made him feel safe.

"I guess we have to share the floor for now." Jongin simply nodded and put down his flashlight. It illuminated the bleakness of the room.

"I'm really sorry about this Jongin."

Jongin removed his jacket and tossed it to the dirty floor without any care. Sitting on the floor, he crossed his legs and leaned tiredly against the wall. "It's fine. Let's just wait here until it stops, Yifan and Junhee won't even know that we're gone. They're too busy defiling the sitting room couch to notice and Taemin and Joohyun's out too.."

Kyungsoo sat on the floor and raised a brow. "Junhee? So they're together."

"Uh huh. It's quite odd actually. Yifan never took anyone seriously. As far as I'm concerned, they're only there to grace his bed. I wonder what changed."

"Yifan's met his match."

"And it had to be Sehun's pragmatic sister. The world sure is small."

Kyungsoo chuckle goes unheard against the loud backdrop of liquid violently pelting the roof like it wanted to destroy it. They were silent for a while and Kyungsoo had to pretend like he could not remember the feel of Jongin's lips against his, Kyungsoo had to forget the heavy taste of alcohol and desperation on Jongin's tongue.

"Will you sing me something?"

The odd request was phrased loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear. "Why do you want me to do that now?" Jongin made an elaborate gesture of shrugging and moved closer beside the older man. "I just want to hear anything that's not this godforsaken rain bearing down on us."

Kyungsoo did not know why he agreed but a few moments later he found himself humming, the melody of the song starting soft and easy that built into a crescendo passing melodically through his lips. It was probably an unfamiliar tune but Jongin had closed his eyes and let Kyungsoo voice soothe him. The song finished in a superfluous tone. Jongin looked content and Kyungsoo was glad.

"Your voice is beautiful."

Kyungsoo shrugged, "Never did me any good." The escort squinted out the window as the rain slowly but steadily slowed into a stop. He grabbed Jongin's flickering flash light and turned it off.

It was a long, long night.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for disappearing, happened to be finals and all that jazz. (I'm officially a junior student in uni next semester so yay yay yay) 
> 
> Anyway, i found this chapter really hard to produce and im not sure if i did taemin and jongin's situation some justice loool. The next three chapters would prolly be long and more kaisoo focused now that main conflict is done. 
> 
> Btw, do u guys think my writing is redundant? You probably would have noticed how focused i am on the inner workings of a character than what's currently happening so my writing tends to get overly...err psychological? /gets bricked/ comments would be nice. I wuv u all. 
> 
> Twitter @snowmyun


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-d as usual. Whoopsies.

After those four days in Busan, Kyungsoo's life lapsed into its inane normalcy. Well, as normal as fucking random clients could get. He has not seen Jongin in a month and Kyungsoo was glad for the peace of mind.

He missed the man though, truly missed him even if he was in no position to feel like so.

He wondered about Jongin, if he had managed to fix the friendship he said he had destroyed. Kyungsoo was concerned about Jongin's well-being, if he ate his meals or if he stopped drinking his bar dry. Honestly, being apart from the music producer gave Kyungsoo's sanity a reprieve, but the distance made his heart ache.

He missed him.

//

Jongin watched calmly as Baekhyun produced suave notes which flowed like silk from the singer's lips. The song's beat slowly faltered and gradually faded into an echo.

Jongin tapped Chanyeol's shoulder. The music producer glanced at him and slid his eyes back onto the studio control panel before him, he pressed a red button and raised a thumbs up toward the singer — who happened to be his lover of a year and a half.

"It's okay." Jongin furrowed his eyebrows. "It's beautiful as always but as far as I'm concerned this won't top Baekhyun's previous single even with heavy promotions from our side. Taemin and Irene's album also comes out around the same time as this one so I can't assure how hard this is going to slam the charts."

Behind them, Sehun slumped back and sighed. Jongin stared at his friend who was also the interim CEO of KSent. Sehun was burdened by his current executive and production tasks and Jongin would have felt bad if he weren't experiencing the same thing.

"What about we move the comeback and set it before the duo's album. Say middle of January to early February."

Chanyeol shook his head. "Baekhyun's popularity is soaring these days, it could compete with Irene and Taemin's just fine. But the thing is, we need something stronger to stand out. Something different, this RNB single should do it but it needs something more."

Jongin ruminated the producer's suggestion. He's been nursing the idea regarding a Skyline and KSent collaboration but the problem was no one under their wing would mesh beautifully with Baekhyun's vocal color. Jongin produced a shortlist of idols but it did not seem right. And to add salt to the injury, Skyline's board of directors had also been pressing him to find the next big thing and Jongin had no idea where to find him.

"If you were to ask, I think it's better to be safe and go for Sehun's suggestion. It's just a single anyway, distribution and promotion will be easy." Jongin shrugged. "Or by some miracle Skyline's talent scouts manage to find the NBT before January and he could do a feauturing prior a debut. That would spark interest seeing as EXO is almost five years ago and Skyline has not debuted anyone since then."

Sehun nodded. "Who knows?"

Jongin glanced back at Baekhyun who was still inside the recording booth checking out his lyrics and completely oblivious that he was the subject of their current discussion.

"We'll hope for the best, Jongin."

//

On the same afternoon and after another board meeting. Jongin trudged back to his office at the 19th floor of Skyline Entertainment building. He'd finalized Taemin and Irene's album with the couple themselves and somehow seeing Taemin again did not pain him as much. A few weeks back, it always seemed that he could drown in thin air at the sight of the older man, Taemin made Jongin suffocate then but now it did not hurt as much. It was great to be finally coming up for oxygen.

Maybe it was the talk that slightly shortened the gap between their friendship, a gap that will always be there since Jongin announced his affections. It was a price Jongin paid in full to have the poison in his heart removed. And it was alright.

Maybe Kyungsoo was right, that was how love should be. Jongin realized, if he's truly in love with Taemin he'd be happy for the man's choices even if his choices did not include Jongin. It was alright, the world had not tilted out of its axis, people would come and go, pain would fade, new emotions would bloom and life goes on.

Yes, life goes on.

 

Jongin studied his desk with papers and folders strewn on its surface. The busy year was about to close with an equally busy month. December has come but Jongin's paperwork could still use another year for him to be able to skim through everything. Plus, the board was really expecting to welcome an additional singer to the company and none of their trainees were ready. It gave Jongin a spectacular headache.

A knock resonated through his office before Kim Minseok entered with a laptop in tow. The man was one of Skyline's many producers working with the trainees that are currently under their wing and he usually assessed possible new artists to sign.

There was a smile on Minseok's lips. "I found him."

Jongin looked away from his computer and furrowed his eyebrows at the older man. "You found whom?"

Minseok opened his laptop in front of the young CEO, his grin becoming wider as he tapped a key and the screen came to life with a video. "The next big thing."

Jongin's gaze returned to his computer as he had to race a report  for a deadline, his vision barely skimmed through the video. The voice from the video started slow and easy, dulcet tones impressionable as the the song hastened into a crescendo. Jongin's fingers ceased flying against his keyboard and he fully turns his gaze to the other screen.

He knew that voice. Its baritone timbre used many times to utter sympathies for Jongin's pathetic grievances about a love never returned. Jongin knew how that voice sounded when plunged into the throes of a sexual high.

It was Do Kyungsoo.

In the video, the escort sang a mid-tempo rhythm and blues number with the slightest hint of jazz. His voice was strong but it crooned the softest melodies. His high notes were stable without the screeching that made Jongin cringe in almost disgust. It was a voice that would mesh beautifully with Baekhyun's.

"Damn right you did, hyung." Jongin said to a grinning Minseok. "He is the next big thing."

//

Black Rose still sent a shiver down Jongin's spine. He secretly harbored a deeply seated loathing for the place because it took the pretense up a notch. Its marble floors and crystal chandeliers shined too brightly blinding anyone who dared scrutinize its grime. The clientele bore the marks of people in the society Jongin belonged in, complete with velvet, faux fur, gold watches, glittering diamonds, and depression masked behind make-up caked faces and charming smiles.

Jongin's opinion of it did not really matter though, not when he'd been a patron to its services not a long time ago even if it had been partially against his will. Maybe it was a bit hypocritical of him to say that because after all that has been said and done, he still found himself coming back.

So much for the soliloquy.

The young CEO trudged ahead for that corner he was too familiar with. He'd pay the finely dressed 'bartender' a fixed fee of six hundred thousand won for a whole day with a server of his preference. The transaction was laughably too normal, like it weren't people they're dealing with, like what they were doing was completely legal.

"What would it be tonight sir?" The 'bartender' asked. He was dressed like any other server in a five star restaurant. His shirt clean and crisp, hair pushed away from his face.

Jongin wanted to bash his head on the spotless bar counter. "Whiskey on the rocks." He said, consequently pulling his card from his wallet. "Do Kyungsoo."

The bartender whipped up his drink and slid it to him on a coaster. "I'm sorry sir but I'm afraid Kyungsoo has been booked for tonight."

The incredulous "What?" left Jongin's lips before he could stop it. There was a burn on his chest and he was reminded of that particular episode, a month ago when the bruises on Kyungsoo's neck seemed fresher than anything and Jongin wanted to strangle the bastard who'd done it to the escort. Jongin knew he was in no position to complain about it since he knew the gritty details of Kyungsoo's chosen line of work. But the thought does not quell the burn of anger and irritation in Jongin's chest.

"Tomorrow…" The whiskey ran through his throat and it gave him the numbness he needed to sign a three million won cheque to be with Kyungsoo for a week. The whole ordeal disgusted him to his bones. "I'll come pick him up. Don't let anyone touch him."

The server discreetly pulled the piece of paper and hid it under the counter. That ugly saccharine smile pasted on his face horrified Jongin more than it should have. "As you wish, sir."

Kyungsoo did not deserve this life. He did not deserve to be subjected to such treatment like he was a fucking animal and Jongin hated that he had to do it.

//

Kyungsoo had a profound dislike for the holidays.

He wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck as he languidly strolled throught the streets. Carols were heard emanating from brightly colored shops and people buzzed with expressive emotions, parents called for their errant children and teenagers laughed in groups. Kyungsoo watched them and felt like he was a displaced thread on the expansive fabric of society.

He sometimes stopped and watched the ever constant throngs of people, everyone of them trudged with a destination in mind and yet there he was, a body who had no idea where to go. Kyungsoo was so tired of wandering aimlessly and he was generally exhausted of his life. He loathed it.

But really, was there even an escape to this trap? As much as he hated what had become of him, Kyungsoo had to admit that he also depended on it a lot. After all, he's given away his body numerous times throughout the better part of half a decade and he was afraid that if he'd stop now the accumulated horrors of the past would flood him and there won't be anything to distract him from the things he's done and regretted. He'll drown and there's no one there to save him.

It's sad that sometimes, people embrace the things that cause their own destruction with arms wide open.

Kyungsoo sighed and resumed his steps. He always took his time walking to the 'restaurant'. He liked to prolong the evident that always awaited him. The trek gave him time to compose himself to find the good things obscured under filth. He thought that maybe, he'd get a client tonight that would not make him feel like a lowlife, maybe he'd get a client that would tip him good, he'd buy that acoustic guitar he'd been eyeing and maybe treat himself an expensive dinner. Yes, maybe he would.

The escort entered the establishment through the backdoor and bumped into Jinri on the way. The ever gleeful woman shot him her usual grin and it eased Kyungsoo's distress. "Hey, Jin."

"Soo, why are you here?"

Kyungsoo unraveled the scarf around his neck and tossed the material in front of their shared vanity. The bruises on his neck haven't faded, he grimaced. "Uhm, because I work here?"

Jinri rolled her eyes at the sarcasm. "No, I meant why are you here tonight? I thought you were booked for the week….those bruises are ugly by the way, wild night?"

Kyungsoo grabbed the concealer from the vanity and started swiping a dollop of the content down his neck. "My client had been terrible. He kissed like a madman and fucked like a caveman what do you expect? And no, I didn't know I've been booked. Who told you?"

"Manager did and speak of the devil."

Their floor manager, a man in his late thirties and generally kind to the escorts, bursted through their dressing room. "Kyungsoo, a Mr. Kim is here to pick you up."

Kyungsoo looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was booked?"

"Yep, you should thank your lucky stars. This Kim Jongin must have fallen for you, he's initially booked you for one week and extended it to a month. Hurry the hell up."

Kyungsoo was generally confounded and slightly irritated as he exited the dressing room. Jinri gave him an encouraging smile and it made his mood plummet. Nonetheless, he followed the floor manager to the receiving area and true to his words and much to Kyungsoo's chagrin, Kim Jongin was there. Kyungsoo's throat closed up and all those lingering emotions he tried so hard to supress for the last month sent his stomach into a frenzy and bile up his throat.

Jongin simply nodded at the floor manager and turned to Kyungsoo. His stare bore heavily onto the escort and the latter felt extremely conscious under Jongin's gaze. The younger kept his lips sealed as he turned around and Kyungsoo was expected to follow along, which he did. Their situation was slightly mortifying, a direct change from the almost amicable friendship that had flourished between them not three months ago. A strong urge to flee came over Kyungsoo and he had to quell it down by thinking like an escort. He was not the Jongin who told random tidbits of his life to Kyungsoo, he was not the same person who slept on the same bed with Kyungsoo and hadn't touched him. Right now, he was Jongin and he was Kyungsoo's client.

The thought was jarring.

Jongin lead him outside, his black SUV glinting under the street light. He ushered the escort with a small nod and Kyungsoo wordlessly occupied the shotgun. The ride to the looming Imperial Palace Seoul had been quiet, the deafening silence was clawing at Kyungsoo's skin coupled with the extreme discomfort of seeing the same hotel he hated to be at. Kyungsoo did not say anything for the remainder of the ride.

//

"Your neck." Came Jongin's remark as soon as they were inside his opulent penthouse suite.

Kyungsoo's palm reached up fast, instinctively covering a part of his neck. He cursed himself for forgetting the damn bruises. "I'm alright. It's my job."

Jongin turned and faced him. The younger looked guilty and mad at the same time, Kyungsoo wondered what had instigated such a a strong reaction. Jongin reached up, skirting the ends of his fingers and pressing them very lightly against the discoloration on Kyungsoo's throat. "No you're not. I should have come earlier at the restaurant last night. I would have stopped this from happening. I'm sorry."

As soon as the words left him, Kyungsoo's anger flared scarily fast, the irritation he'd felt earlier returning coupled with a crippling disappointment he had no idea how to quell. "You don't need to apologize to me Jongin. And I don't need your pity. I'm not a charity case."

"No, you're not but I don't want to see you with anything that reminds me that I can't protect nor change you from this life you so crudely chose."

Kyungsoo could not believe the words. He scoffed and fought the urge to punch Jongin's perfectly crafted face. "So this is what instigated this huh?" He received Jongin's impassive stare and leveled it with his own. "Look, I don't need a knight in a fucking white horse to come save me, I'm over this shit Jongin. And here I was thinking that you're actually different from the rest of them but you're not. I'm what I am, a fucking prostitute if that fact didn't manage to penetrate your brain, then let me repeat it, I'm a fucking prostitute. If you can't stomach the idea then do me a fucking favor and stop looking for me. You're burning your money for all the wrong reasons and you're making me feel like a fucking pathetic low-life."

Kyungsoo belatedly felt his nails digging unto his palms. He'd curled his fist so tightly he'd slightly pierced through his skin. The disappointment over the situation could drown him.

To be honest, he'd been alright when Jongin wanted to book him and bring him to that beach a month back because it was apparent the other man needed some grounding and Kyungsoo had done that for him. On the other hand, Kyungsoo had also been stuck in this bubble of imaginary emotions he thought he felt for Jongin but in reality he had also needed the other man, because Jongin didn't remind Kyungsoo of his bad choices even at his lowest point, when he'd met Jongin while he'd been battered and bruised and visibly shaken, Jongin hadn't said anything and Kyungsoo had needed that wordless encouragement more than he'd liked to admit.

His reasoning was self serving but it hurt to think that he was nothing but Jongin's charity case. He'd rather live his life than stand on the receiving end of Jongin's pity. He didn't want it, he'll never need it. And he would show Jongin just what he was until the younger ceased whatever fancy ideas he harbored.

Kyungsoo grasped Jongin by his shoulder and did nothing but manhandle him onto the expensive leather couch that reeked of his scent. He straddled Jongin's hips as he dipped down to press insistent kisses on the base of Jongin's neck.

Jongin resisted weakly, like he was tired with the situation as Kyungsoo was. "Kyungsoo what the fuck are you doing?"

Kyungsoo shrugged his coat and tossed the offending material on the coffee table. "Stop."

Jongin's words went unheeded for Kyungsoo was trying so hard to stomp the ache that burned him from the inside out. He never noticed when Jongin used nothing but brute force to shove Kyungsoo's frame away from his body. It was a rejection laced with disgust for what he was.

Kyungsoo wanted to laugh and scream and sob at the same damn time. But he, as usual, did nothing and laid there, staring at Jongin's carved ceiling and badly wishing that the whole thing would just collapse onto them. But then Jongin was crawling between Kyungsoo's legs, and his fingers curled tightly against Kyungsoo's biceps. Jongin's impassive face was no longer present as his face contorted into that of anger, his eyes very expressive in their irritation as they bore holes into Kyungsoo's skull. "I. Don't. Want. Your. Fucking. Body."

Kyungsoo was shaking, or maybe it was Jongin, or maybe both. The escort screwed his eyes shut and when they opened, his face relaxed into that of nothing. The shadows veiling the storm that raged inside. "This is what you paid for Jongin, my body. And if you don't want it, I can't offer you anything else."

Jongin inhaled and yet he sounded like he was strangled. He pushed his forehead onto Kyungsoo's and they stayed in that position for a few seconds that felt like a lifetime.

"I'm sorry." The words were whispered, and nothing sounded as sincere as the apologies spilling from his mouth. "I'm sorry Kyungsoo."

"What the fuck do you want from me Jongin?"

//

"I hate your bruises." Jongin had said later on when the both of them had generally calmed down. There was a bottle of bourbon sitting on the coffee table, and it was almost empty.

After their almost violent fight, Jongin had decided that they needed to talk and deemed it best to get a bottle of alcohol delivered. Kyungsoo was too tired to argue and he needed to get hammered, and hammered they did. The situation was anti-climactic.

"My bruises do not have anything to do with you Jongin. They exist because some of my clients aren't there to treat me like I'm fine China, they want a good fuck; I happen to serve that purpose."

Jongin emptied another shot of the strong liquid down his throat and barely flinched. "I know but I still wanna kill ever goddamn bastard who lays a finger on you. And I fuckin' hate it when you talk like you don't have an ounce of self-respect."

"And you're one to talk after paying the restaurant. I've slept with you Jongin but I never accepted your money, and that's me respecting myself. But then you come along with your blank cheques and fucking booked me like everyone else does. And then you actually expect me to be all coy and act like I'm your fucking bestfriend. Hell, if you wanted to come see me then you should have went to the café in the morning. But you didn't, you fucker."

"I did it because I hate your bruises." Kyungsoo wasn't expecting a rebuttal. "Did you honestly think that it was all nice and dandy when I signed those cheques, handing it over and saying your name like you were a fucking thing?" Jongin soffed and even through Kyungsoo's hazy mind, the anger was clear in Jongin's visage. "You're something else Kyungsoo. I can't even do something good without your damn accusations. And for that I hate it, you're making me feel like a low-life too. You don't always have to act like everyone's looking down on you. I don't look down you, and it was never my intention for it to come off as offending. I just hate your bruises and that was it. I'm sorry."

Kyungsoo was conflicted and as much as he liked to believe the sincerity in Jongin's words. "Then why do you care so much Jongin?"

"Because I value my friendship with you. And I care, hyung. I care about you. Will you let me?"

Kyungsoo could not say anything else.

//

Wu Yifan's days were blissful. He seemed truly happy, and that's saying without his usual escapades. He could not even remember the last time he'd slept with someone.

It was an awakening, as odd as that sounded. It was alright, Junhee had been coloring the bleakness in his life that he hadn't realized existed, Junhee filled the gaps, that void Yifan thought never existed. Maybe he stopped falling and was now in love.

It felt good to say that, in love.

//

Wu Yifan was a personal project for Kim Junhee.

The moment she landed on Seoul after four years of absence, Sehun had not ceased his incessant reminders about Wu Yifan. Her younger brother had told her, he was tall with a handsome face, spoke eloquently and charmed men and women onto his bed like a routine. "He's a charming, rich bastard but he's allergic to commitments and you need to stay away from him."

Junhee got curious of course and she'd realized that Sehun had been understating. Because Wu Yifan was more than what her brother had told her. And yes, he was everything pleasing to the eyes and Junhee wouldn't really object to a night with him. She didn't like commitments as well.

But then things happened, and Yifan proved to be so much more than the jaded, sex starved human being he portrayed. Wu Yifan was a good man no matter how hard he tried to deny that he had a heart.

Kindness, maybe that was what boostered her attraction.

Initially it was all lust, teasing glances and compliments half meant. Then came the amicable dinners full of thought provoking conversations that gave Junhee the satisfaction she craved more than carnal pleasure. It was apparent that Yifan wanted her but it was gratifying that he could rein in his urges about her and that he seemed to enjoy her company without needing to tear at her clothes.

The thing is, she didn't expect to get attached this quickly but when they drank coffee and held each other's hands while they traversed through museums. He seemed to have a genuine interest with the arts and he talked about it elaborately and it made Junhee's chest swell. Yifan also had a keen love for performing arts as his mother, a ballerina, exposed him to it at an early age. They found common ground with classical ballet, The Nutcracker being her favorite while he rather enjoyed Tchaikovsky's work in Swan Lake.

"Basic." Junhee chided.

"Hey! My mom used to be Odette and in college Jongin danced as Prince Siegfried."

 

It was December thirteenth, and Yifan couldn't have surprised her better with tickets to the local Ballet production since they were showing 'The Nutcracker' for that year. "And I wanted to see you in a gown again." He joked. But the conscious effort truly amazed her to be honest.

Junhee checked her appearance before the body length mirror. She had on a full sleeved dress that clung to her like second skin, it was all black with a white sash tied around her waist. Her back was exposed from the base of her neck down her spine.

"You look lovely, babe." Yifan said, as he discreetly roamed his eyes on her petite figure. She smirked before pressing a small yet extremely forward kiss on the side of his mouth. It was her newest hobby, riling Wu Yifan up. She wondered how long it would take for him to snap. "You look good too." Came her whisper against his pierced earlobe. Yifan rewarded her with a full body shudder, it made her smile.

"You're the death of me."

//

Yifan escorted her out of his vehicle, pulling the door open and reaching out an arm for her to take. Junhee chuckled as she grabbed his huge palm. "What's with the royal treatment?"

"It's called ballet etiquette, baby and you deserve to be treated like royalty." Yifan smiled as one of his palm went to cover the small of her back. Yifan's touch sent a pleasant tingle down her spine. "You flatter me Yifan."

They enter the theater in relative silence and took their seats near the orchestra. Ballet performances usually started promptly so they still had time to sit back and admire each other. Junhee felt the man's gaze on her and it made her turn to meet his eyes. Yifan stared at her with a content smile on his face. Happiness looked good on him and Junhee was glad that he found joy in her presence.

"You're staring."

Yifan chuckled and grabbed her fingers, her slender feminine digits moulding against his longer ones. "Have I told you that you're beautiful?"

"I believe you used the word, 'lovely."

"Okay then, you're beautiful, Kim Junhee."

His confession made heat creep up her neck. Thankfully, the night's conductor stepped into the podium with an elaborate bow and with a flick of his fingers, 'The Nutcracker''s famous overture washed over the audience in a beautiful allegro. Junhee gazed on the stage and watched as ballerinas and ballerinos glided on their toes and moved their bodies with an inherent grace that she always envied. Junhee's bliss was evident on her beautiful visage as the smile she wore remained until the curtains fell closed. The two's palms stay connected throughout the acts. Junhee did not mind, Yifan's hold was comforting

As the final act came to a close, Junhee stood with everyone in the audience for a standing ovation. She turned to Yifan and mouthed her gratitude, the man merely smiled.

//

Dinner had been a special affair albeit, a mundane one at that. They were back in Junhee's flat, as the latter traipsed into the kitchen after changing out of her Vera Wang gown.

"Are you even sure you can cook?" Yifan jested as he took over the stove without his tie and his Armani coat. Junhee playfully stuck her tongue at him. "Enjoy the privilege while it lasts. And for your information my chicken marinara is a killer, it's Sehun's favorite and that brat is a picky eater."  
  
Yifan flicked water on her direction and laughed at her pretend offended expression. "As if, you can't even slice the chicken without cutting yourself."

"It was an accident!"

Junhee thought he looked so good when his gums appeared and his eyes disappeared into crescents when he laughed. Junhee's heart pounded and she knew what the reaction entailed. Her attraction was slowly becoming more and instead of running away from her feelings, she embraced it. It had been years since someone had stirred her stronger emotions and to be honest she missed the feeling. She smiled back at Yifan and swiped the marinara sauce on his cheek. The male looked stunned. "Oh no, you just did not!"

The woman scampered on her feet as Yifan gave chase around the slightly wide kitchen. Junhee was happy, they were both happy.

  
After a playful kitchen banter which involved messy marinara sauce and a makeout session against the kitchen counter. The two finally managed to serve themselves dinner. True indeed, Junhee's dish had been delightful.

Conversation had been exchanged over chicken and wine and for dessert, Junhee took out a tub of her favorite strawberry flavored ice cream from the fridge. "You should be very privileged, I'm actually willing to share."

"I am privileged, love."

Love, the nickname sounded natural rolling off Yifan's lips, Junhee loved it. She gave a spoon to Yifan and plopped down beside him.

"Strawberry?"

"It tastes better in its ice cream form. Don't judge."

Yifan scooped a dollop of the treat into his mouth. "I'm not judging. Geez, you're so feisty." Junhee merely smiled at him. "Good to know!"

They remained silent after. Junhee was seemingly absorbed on shoving more strawberry ice cream in her mouth.

"Your flat is gorgeous by the way."

"Thanks."

Junhee roamed her eyes around her open floor plan and smiled. Her flat was her first architectural design and although she didn't occupy the house on a regular basis. She still thought it was a space that reflected her personality; the sloping glass walls that gave a marvelous night view, the expansive kitchen and marble counters. The place was far from perfect but she loved it nontheless.

She looked at Yifan and prodded him with her eyes. "You never really tell me anything about yourself."

"For starters." There was an ambivalent grin on Yifan's lips, "My mother actually made me try ballet." Yifan laughed and scratched the back of his neck. Junhee noticed he did that a lot. "I'm not sure if I should be telling you this, it's quite embarrassing. I was four and the moment she made me do the basic stretches I started bawling my eyes out. My mom really wanted me to learn and she told me I stopped crying when she showed me the tutu the girls were wearing."

Junhee could not contain her laughter. "You must have looked pretty."

Yifan flushed. "I told you it was embarrassing. God, you're gonna have a field day looking at my childhood photos."

"I would love to Yifan."

The conversation flowed easily from there. Junhee recounted most of her fond memories with her brother and her college days in France. She told him that St. Agnes was actually derived from her favorite school building. Yifan listened to her speak about her life, how she wanted to be a pilot when she was a child, that she hated purple and loved green.

Yifan didn't speak much, but he did spill some funny episodes about his college days in Princeton and that no one wanted to talk to him except this weird Asian kid called Chanyeol. They'd been good friends and even better party hosts. "Chanyeol's a music producer too. I think he works under KS."

"You mean Park Chanyeol? The guy with his ears sticking out? Oh my god, Sehun mauled his ass three years back. He took a pass on my brother and Sehun went berserk!"

They both laughed hard, clutching at their middle. She fell against Yifan's bent knee and wheezed as the comedic memory resurfaced. Junhee had tears in her eyes but it was soon gone as she noticed how incredibly close they were. Yifan's sharp, minty scent diffused under her nose. She loved his scent, maybe it was the aftershave or the perfume he used that made it smell so addicting. Yifan noticed their rather incriminating position and he had promptly ceased moving. They stared at each other and that familiar surge of want coursed through her like hot flames. She gulped before leaning closer and kissing him. It was the first time she instigated something that was not anything but an innocent teasing kiss, because right now she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Yifan hefted her in one smooth stroke so that she was upon his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. Yifan pulled her closer with both palms on her waist. He kissed her and this time there was no denying the lust in his kisses. His lips seared against hers as if wanting to prove something and she kissed back with equal passion that screamed a need.

"I want you so fucking much." The man rasped against her neck, pressing insistent kisses on her throat. "Please tell me you need me too —"

"Yes, I want you. Take me."

Yifan needed no unnecessary prompting as he lifted both of their bodies from the couch without separating their lips.

Clothes are shed, hushed whispers of adoration kissed against each other's skin. Yifan revered Junhee and touched her like she was someone that breathed air onto his lungs. His hands drew imaginary masterpieces against the canvas of pale white skin.

Her back arched beautifully against the bed as he claimed her. Yifan had never seen anything so beautiful, for a moment Yifan silently watched as she unraveled beneath him. So, so beautiful.

The act was meaningful.

Sex with Junhee felt sacred, felt raw and when it was over Yifan didn't feel like running away to sate the void in his chest. Instead he rained gentle kisses on her face, down her neck. Junhee drew him closer and they laughed and kissed each other.

The afterglow was glorious.

God, he loved her.

  
//

Yifan's slumbering face greeted her the moment she opened her eyes. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, his unruly black hair and his handsome face relaxed in sleep. Junhee felt an unexplainable need to etch the image and keep it close to her so she shifted slightly pulling the sheets to cover her naked chest. Twisting to the side she grabbed her sketchbook from the bedstand and her charcoal pencil.

She stared at Yifan's face and started to draw him. Junhee sketched the shape of his forehead, the slant of his nose, his thin lips. As the minutes ticked by the image finally cleared. The Yifan in her drawing was an exact copy of the man on her bed. She smiled to herelf.

"What are you doing?"

"Staring at the beautiful naked man on my bed."

Yifan chuckled before grabbing her back down. "You can stare later, let's cuddle."

"You suprise me Yifan, I didn't think you'd be someone who embraced your lovers."

Yifan nosed at the crook of her neck. "You're right. I never cuddle my lovers since I never had one before you, love. And Jun?"

"Hmmm?"

"Just so you know, I love you and this did not stem from last night. I just wanted to tell you, it feels better now. I don't feel like combusting anymore."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

She leaned back and stared at him. "Again."

And without fail, Yifan relayed to her the words he never told anyone. There was nothing but sincerity and adoration in his eyes as he repeated "I love you, Kim Junhee."

Junhee kissed him.

  
Later when Junhee noticed the word 'fortitude' tattooed on the innerside of his arm she laughed and showed him the Latin word 'fortis' inked above her shoulder blade.

"We're fated!" Yifan exclaimed as he grabbed her by the waist and hugged her. "We're never separating. You're stuck with me forever!"

Junhee was happy and she wished it would last forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yay! 3k of kaisoo pain and another 3k of barf worthy Krisho fluff. Eew. I felt like i just wrote.6k for a filler chap (WHY CAN'T I WRITE PROPERLY OMG) anyway, kudos and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Twitter @snowmyun


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm dead when i was writing this whole thing. idek.

Kyungsoo awakens to familiar environment.

Even the dimness of the place wasn't enough to cloud the opulent sitting room. The couch reeked of a man's expensive perfume that reminded Kyungsoo of his bad decisions. He squinted, letting his vision adjust and his back ached in protest, in retrospect he ached everywhere and he could not remember past the half finished bottle of bourbon he'd downed with Jongin the night before. 

  
They fought, and if Kyungsoo was being honest with himself, he had been furious to the point that he wanted to physically hurl Jongin and his pretense away where they couldn't touch the crumbling wall Kyungsoo had built to protect what's left of his sanity. He thought he was over the man, his petty little feelings crushed over the duration of a month without seeing Jongin's sad smiles and the heart he wore on his sleeve. But then there was last night, complete with Jongin's profuse apologies and Kyungsoo found himself pathetically crawling out of that diminutive shell where he hid the better part of his emotions.   
  
Kyungsoo's head hurt, it hurt a lot. He stood up from the couch, finally catching a vision of Jongin leaning on the balustrade of the veranda, a lighted cigarette in between his fingers of which the ashes fall all the way down. He approached the man, Jongin turned and offered Kyungsoo a wry smile. Jongin looked like he'd slept through a tornado, his pallor was ghastly and the crinkles on his shirt resembled the mess that was his blown hair. They probably looked the same, Kyungsoo had not seen himself but he felt like shit.   
  
"You're up." Jongin said, as he stubbed the finished cigarette but not before using the dying embers to light another stick.   
  
Kyungsoo just stared at the man's side profile before he grabbed the crumpled pack of cigarettes beside Jongin's ash tray. Seconds later, Kyungsoo found himself taking a long drag of poison and it seemed to settle his nerves. He was not sure what to say to Jongin and he's reminded that he's bound to the man for a month and the thought that Jongin showed himself again just to 'purchase' Kyungsoo lent a bitter taste in his mouth.   
  
"You haven't really answered the only question I've been asking you since last night." He tells Jongin, matter of fact.  
  
"I want you to sing for me hyung."   
  
Kyungsoo could not stop the sarcastic chortle that escaped him. "Are you sure you don't wanna fuck me instead?"   
  
Jongin turned to face Kyungsoo and the latter met his seething gaze. Kyungsoo watched as emotions flitted through Jongin's gaze; anger most evident. Kyungsoo did not deign him anything but a vapid stare of his own. Kyungsoo stubbed his cigaratte and turned away.   
  
"No."  
  
Kyungsoo remained silent and he was now really confused about the situation and where he stood in their mess.  "I can't offer you anything besides my body Jongin. Use me whatever the hell you want, I don't care. But after this, I want you to just fucking forget everything that has happened. Everything."   
  
"Alright." The word rolled off Jongin's lips in a quiet acquisce. He was resigning to how fucked up this nightmare had become for the both of them. "Since you see me as nothing but another selfish bastard — which I really am — might as well go all the nine yards. I paid for you and I ask nothing but your voice alone, that's the only thing I'm taking away."   
  
Kyungsoo sighed. "Fine."   
  
//   
  
Kyungsoo met Kim Minseok the day after. The man looked positively thrilled at the sight of him. Minseok called him 'the next big thing' and with that simple statement, Kyungsoo had known why Jongin ever came back. The escort wanted to laugh at his own naive foolishness because even if he knew the truth there was a part of him which believed that maybe Jongin wanted to see him without ulterior motives.   
  
But no, he had something that Jongin wanted and needed and Kyungsoo was stupid enough to let Jongin take and take. Kyungsoo was reminded of that vague rumor about how Vincent Van Gogh used to swallow yellow paint because he thought it made him happy. The escort compared his situation with Jongin and the similarity was painfully obvious. Kyungsoo knew that Jongin was harmful for him, the man shattered his protective walls, used him as a mental punching bag, and now a business tool but no matter what happened Kyungsoo would let himself be used, in a sick sort of way, it made him happy. For a brief period of the ever constant disconcerting moments in his life, Jongin made Kyungsoo happy, Jongin made Kyungsoo feel again.   
  
And if Van Gogh swallowed yellow paint, Kyungsoo had Jongin, and the man was the yellow paint he'd swallow time and time again. Because that's what people do, we're all just trying to be happy but sometimes chasing happiness is like a drawn out torture that lead to an undignified end.   
  
"Jongin told me that you're an acquaintance of his." Kyungsoo merely nodded as Minseok guided him into the empty recording booth. The door to the studio opened and through it came Jongin, clad in a sweatshirt and yesterday's ghastly pallor. He looked like he'd had a rough night, or week for that matter. Concern for the younger burns through Kyungsoo's thoughts and he wanted to hold out against the glass partition between them. Jongin's lips were shut, and there had been no emotion in his face sans the small tired smile he rendered for Kyungsoo.   
  
Papers were handed to Kyungsoo and the man received the sheets without much a glance. He could not seem to tear his gaze away from Jongin, even as he mechanically wore the sound cancelling headphones. Minseok's voice is friendly through the filter of the device, "Let's try, Love Me Again. Is that fine with you, Kyungsoo ssi?"   
  
Kyungsoo nodded, closing his eyes as the familiar instrumental settled upon his senses. He loved the song, it was one of his personal favorites. Taekwoon told him the song's fluctuating low tones and varying high notes made his dulcet voice stand out. When the last of the notes faded into the end of the song, Kyungsoo opened his eyes.  
  
"You sound marvelous."   
  
//  
  
Jongin has heard Kyungsoo sing before. The escort's voice was absolutely stunning, a combination of stable high notes and low note timbers. Kyungsoo's voice was very much a vocal representation of his character, soothing and soft yet at the same time impressionable and strong.   
  
"You sound marvelous." The compliment was sincerely said, surprising considering the fact that Jongin had voiced it without prior thoughts. Kyungsoo murmured a low thank you, stepping out of the recording booth as he did. Suddenly Jongin realized what he should have done in the first place.   
  
"You don't need further training." Minseok was staring at Kyungsoo with admiration written clearly all over his face. "I was hoping that you could do a featuring for us Kyungsoo-ssi. You don't need to sign a contract under us unless you decide to debut."   
  
Jongin could only nod his head.   
  
"Debut with us Kyungsoo, as a singer. Or even a singer-songwriter, we'll cater to you."   
  
Kyungsoo looked up, met Jongin's gaze in that steady expressionless state and quietly shook his head. "Thank you. But I can't, I'll do your featuring as a favor and nothing else. I don't even need payment."   
  
Jongin expected that and it was kind of a blow to his face, a crude reminder of where he'd fucked up. Jongin screwed his eyes shut and his gaze went down.   
  
"The offer would stand hyung, when and if you change your mind, it'll be there. And, I'm sorry."   
  
Jongin does not receive an answer, he turned around and stepped out. He missed the complete look of confusion on Minseok's face, and the slight shifting of Kyungsoo's expression. 

  
  
//   
  
Kyungsoo wasn't expecting to meet Park Chanyeol, again. But there he was, in his usual six feet glory, fine silvery hair and a baffled smile on his face.   
  
"Kyungsoo, you're singing with Baekhyun?"   
  
Kyungsoo wondered if Chanyeol ever thought of all the things that had happened between them, the quiet conversations in the dead of the night, Chanyeol's fingers inching down his spine, the feel of their bodies slotting together. Maybe for Chanyeol, Kyungsoo was  nothing but a bad decision, a flaw in his ever perfect life and now a permanent stain.  
  
But for Kyungsoo Chanyeol would always be that person he shared more than a couple of nights with. Chanyeol would always be that person who made Kyungsoo feel like he was more than a body to grace his bed with. Chanyeol who'd honestly confessed that Kyungsoo made his life a little bit better and that he was the reason why Chanyeol woke up in the morning. Chanyeol was more than a fond memory, and for a short while Kyungsoo believed him, he always did even if he knew that Chanyeol only spoke those words and held him tenderly because he had been lonely, because he'd been in pain and he needed someone to project his feelings upon.   
  
Much like what  happened with Jongin, Kyungsoo fell too. In a sick sort of way, he thrived on other people's weakness and pain, on other people's capacity of needing him. It made Kyungsoo feel slightly less worthless, even if it's all temporary.   
  
But why did it hurt so much? After all these years, seeing Chanyeol still brought that small spark of hope that Chanyeol himself crushed when he bid his goodbye and never came back, never wanted Kyungsoo back even just for his body.   
  
Why did it hurt so fucking much?   
  
"Yes." Kyungsoo finally answered, tone still flat. He hoped Chanyeol wouldn't mention anything about what he did. "It's just a short stanza."   
  
"Alright then. I never knew you sang Kyungsoo."  
  
You never really knew anything about me Chanyeol.   
  
Just then, a short petite red head stepped into the recording studio. Chanyeol's eyes lit upon the sight of the smaller male, he leaned down and pressed his lips on the man's forehead in a quick, chaste, yet adoring kiss. It wasn't as painful but more like a mocking slap upon Kyungsoo's face. The kiss was a simple reminder that he'd been nothing but a temporary recluse for Chanyeol.  
  
"Baekhyun this is Kyungsoo, he's singing your featuring."  
  
Kyungsoo had seen Baekhyun before, on the night of the Lees' banquet, to be precise. The man was easily beautiful and he had a warm smile.  
  
"Hi, I'm Baekhyun and this giant here, is Chanyeol." _I know._ "He's our producer and so if anything goes awry, it should be his fault."   
  
"Baek, you're ruining my career and reputation." Chanyeol's tone wasn't annoyed, it was fond in an exasperated kind of way. "And you didn't need to introduce us, Kyungsoo is actually my friend."   
  
Baekhyun merely smiled again. "Is that so? Well I duly hope Chanyeol hadn't been a bother Kyungsoo ssi, he tends to get over excited about the weirdest things.".  
  
"Enough, enough." Chanyeol gently prodded Baekhyun into the recording booth. "I'm not just  gonna stand here and tolerate this slander."  
  
Baekhyun merely laughed and blew exaggerated kisses from behind the glass partition of the recording booth. Chanyeoll rolled his eyes.   
  
"I'm assuming that we can start with the official recording already. You know the song right?"   
  
"What is Love." Kyungsoo answered. "Yes, I know."   
  
"Good. Baekhyun are you ready?"  
  
Baekhyun sends two thumbs up and the beginnings of the now familiar instrumental fill the room. The singer's voice was nothing short of impeccable. It filled the room with a kind of soothing cadence that settled firmly upon the listener's senses, it was the kind of voice that demanded an audience.   
  
Baekhyun had sung the whole song for the guide and Kyungsoo had been asked to do the same. Singing without proper professional training strained Kyungsoo's voice. By the end of their first session, his throat was raw, and suddenly he was so tired of being so close to Chanyeol. The man's presence was an elephant in the room.   
  
Though, Kyungsoo appreciated the fact that Chanyeol hasn't said or even alluded anything to whatever odd relationship they had in the past. He regarded Kyungsoo respectfully, like a music producer to his singer and more than anything, Kyungsoo was grateful for that.   
  
//  
  
"Kyungsoo?"  
  
The singer looked up and he sees Jongin standing across the hall. He was clad in a wrinkled black button down and held a bottle of vending machine lemon tea in his hand. Kyungsoo smiled tiredly at the man. Jongin takes languid steps forward and hands Kyungsoo the lemon tea in his grasp before taking the empty seat next to him  
  
"Thought to get you something for your throat. Chanyeol does not look like it but he's a prissy perfectionist."  
  
Kyungsoo took one deliberate sip and smiled gratefully. "I thought he wasn't going to stop the session until I joked that my throat was going to bleed."   
  
"Was the first session too tough?"  
  
"Not really. Chanyeol's just too nitpicky with details. He probably won't let up with the recording until it matches his taste."  
  
"Yes, he's always been like that." Jongin chuckles, "You met Baekhyun?"   
  
"His lover."   
  
Jongin turned to look at him. "How'd you figure it out?"   
  
"Chanyeol adores him. They don't make it obvious but I noticed."  
  
"Chanyeol's a changed man. I guess Baekhyun changed him. Two years back, you'd have met someone so different. But I'm glad he's changed for the better."   
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
Jongin chuckled as he answers. "It's not my story to tell Kyungsoo hyung."   
  
Kyungsoo wanted to negate the statement. He had an inkling about how Chanyeol changed. For one, he didn't crave a stranger's comfort anymore. Secondly, Chanyeol looked genuinely happy. Oh, he's changed alright because he was far from the shell of a man he used to be. Kyungsoo remembered Chanyeol's misery, the same misery he tried so hard to hide, the same misery Kyungsoo thrived upon because it made him feel better about himself. Thinking back to it, Chanyeol has found himself in Baekhyun, he hadn't changed, he was just lost. Kyungsoo, on the other hand needed to move on.  
  
Kyungsoo was glad Chanyeol seemed to be happy and is living the life that is meant for him. As he mulled over his scattering thoughts, a dull sort of pain started to wrap itself around Kyungsoo's heart. He couldn't breathe.  
  
How does one move on from nothing at all? It was a consternation in the highest degree.   
  
How does Kyungsoo even move on when he and Chanyeol had been nothing. There had been nothing between them but lust and half dazed confessions that did not mean anything until Kyungsoo deluded himself to believe in them. Chanyeol had sweetly lulled promises he never intended to keep and Kyungsoo willingly danced into Chanyeol's trap. Kyungsoo had drank his own poison and it was time to face the consequences of his own foolishness even if it meant that he drowned every goddamn time.   
  
Kyungsoo did not know how long they sat there, basking in uncomfortable silence. The singer found himself staring at the bottle of vending machine tea as he waited for the words Jongin wanted to say.  Kyungsoo could almost hear the unspoken words that floated languidly in the crippling silence. He waits.   
  
In the end, Jongin pronounced a low, direly insecure. "I'm sorry hyung, for everything." Jongin was so still, he barely moved as Kyungsoo listened. "You were right, I really shouldn't have put you through that and I apologize for what I said."    
  
"I over reacted." Kyungsoo's hoarse voice dropped a notch lower. "I was fine the first time you paid for me because as much as I don't wanna admit this, I'd been a total wreck and so were you — the perfect match. Maybe I needed someone who's as miserable as I were."   
  
Kyungsoo let the words hang unfinished. He chanced a glance upon Jongin who was taking his sudden confession quite calmly. He continued. "When you paid the restaurant a second time, it was a fucking slap to my face. It's like you bought my pride and handed it over to me." Kyungsoo chuckled sarcastically.  "But I wasn't in the position to get angry Jongin and you did nothing wrong. It's the way my world works and you shouldn't have to apologize for that."   
  
"But hyung, I am sorry for what I said and for how I made you feel. But I'm serious when I say that you're so much more and I realized I could give you this." Jongin paused and looked at Kyungsoo to gauge his reaction.   
  
"If you ever want out of that life, I'll give you an opening and no you're not my charity case. You deserve it hyung, your voice is something else and it deserves to be heard. You deserve more."   
  
Kyungsoo knew he was too old for lofty dreams. He had his own share of fanciful aspirations and a bucket full of unshed tears. His dreams of singing are all in that bucket, tucked away and saved for another time, when life wasn't as clouded, when things made a bit more sense. Singing was not for Kyungsoo anymore and it's been such a long time since he's accepted it as a fact.   
  
"Are you sure you don't want to give music a second chance?"   
  
"Pretty sure, but I'm hungry though. Will you buy me dinner?"   
  
Jongin laughs.   
  
//   
  
Days after, Kyungsoo found himself reacquainted with the nuances and intricacies of one Kim Jongin. And then come the emotions. Kyungsoo has tried so hard to bury such convoluted feelings for a man so out of Kyungsoo's reach, but the things he harbored for Jongin seemed to have taken root, wrapping tendrils tightly around Kyungsoo's heart. Jongin, who's so near yet so far, brings a subtle kind of pain, the kind that washes over Kyungsoo in waves as deceptive and poisonous as they are warm and filling.   
  
In the present, Jongin is hunched over the recording panel. Baekhyun was still in the booth next to Kyungsoo, perfecting "What is Love" into something that Chanyeol deemed appropriate. Kyungsoo could not take his eyes away from Jongin. The man looked harried as he conversed with Wu Yifan and his gestures agitated bordering angry. Kyungsoo wondered what problem Jongin is facing, since he could not hear beyond the sound proof glass.   
  
It is Chanyeol's voice which derails his line of thought. "Okay, that's a wrap. Kyungsoo want to get ready on the next verse?"   
  
Kyungsoo shook his head and spoke into the recording mic. His voice sounded hoarse, Chanyeol cringed and ushered the both out of the booth.   
  
Kyungsoo immediately made a beeline out the recording booth.

"Do something about it." Kyungsoo had heard the tail end of Jongin's sentence before he followed Jongin out of the room completely.   
  
"Jongin." Kyungsoo called. Said man stopped and turned to look. "Is there something wrong?"   
  
Jongin sighed and ran a frustrated hand over his obsidian hair. "Taemin and Irene's physical albums not meeting the preorder count. It happens."   
  
Kyungsoo watched as Jongin's expression did not linger nor change at the mention of Taemin's name. "Isn't their comeback scheduled after Baekhyun's single?"   
  
"They decided to have it first since it's been prepared and Chanyeol's being a total perfectionist on Baek's album.  Says, he can't meet the deadline." Jongin pinches the bridge of his noise. His face scrunching in pain. Kyungsoo watched him worriedly.  
  
"You need to take the day off Jongin, you're a fucking wreck. Go rest." Kyungsoo's tone, albeit his condescending words, was soft and tinged with pure concern for the record label CEO.  
  
Jongin weakly smiled at him. "I haven't slept in forty-eight hours. I can't even drive."   
  
"Give me your keys. I'm taking you home."   
  
//   
  
Apparently, home is still the penthouse suite of the Imperial Palace Seoul. The change of situation is stark. For the record, Kyungsoo nor Jongin isn't inebriated out of their wits. It's 4:45 in the afternoon and Jongin has clearly succumbed to fatigue.  
  
"You should eat first." Kyungsoo tells him as soon as he sees Jongin fall, face first on the couch. "I'll call for home service, what do you want?"   
  
"My mom's gimbap." Jongin tells him. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. "Jongin I'm not kidding."   
  
"No really, I want it. I miss home."    
  
"Then go home Jongin. This place isn't home."   
  
Jongin, who seemed to have fallen asleep on the couch, does not answer. Kyungsoo merely sighs as he roams around the wide penthouse suite. The place is equipped with a wide kitchen and a dining area but both looked completely unused. Kyungsoo slid open the concealed refrigerator and unsurprisingly, nothing is inside but a few bottles of expensive champagne.   
  
Jongin is still on the couch, snoring lightly. Kyungsoo glanced at the time and deciding that he had nothing better do, he left the penthouse in search for gimbap ingredients.  
  
//   
  
An hour and half lead to five plastic containers of sliced gimbap. As Kyungsoo wrapped up and stored the perfectly shaped rolls into plastic containers, Jongin finally woke up. The man rolled out of the couch bleary eyed and hair tousled. Jongin offered him a weak smile as he sat before the opulent and excessively long dining table. Kyungsoo handed him the container of gimbap and some stainless chopsticks, idly thinking that the hotel service could have provided food that was actually meant to be laid on such garishly expensive looking table.  
  
"I don't know how your mom makes her gimbap but I hope you like mine." Kyungsoo murmured as he watched a delighted Jongin bite into a piece. The younger man moaned in appreciation and Kyungsoo was endeared enough to watch him finish a whole batch. Jongin smiled as he finished chewing, sticking both thumbs up as he sang Kyungsoo his praises.    
  
"I appreciated that. Thanks."  
  
Kyungsoo merely nodded as he pointed to the stack of colorful food containers and left the dining area so that Jongin could finish his meal in relative peace.   
  
Kyungsoo traipsed into the ever lavishly yet tastefully decorated sitting room and stared at the piano. He'd been eyeing the grand piano as if he'd just noticed its existence. The instrument was tucked at the west side of the room facing the floor length glass windows, above its own platform and was slightly illuminated by an elegant  light fixture hanging above it. Kyungsoo itched to run his fingers over the instrument's contrasting ivory and ebony keys. It was an overwhelming desire that he'd manage to curb a long time ago. He stopped playing after his parents' death, briefly restarted when he first worked as a waiter at Black Rose and completely stopped after he'd started to become an escort. It had been years since he last played and he briefly wondered just how badly he sounded.   
  
Kyungsoo hesitated for all three seconds before he found himself before the instrument, fingers splayed upon the keys and abruptly pressed down. The rhythm he'd produced was nothing short of awful. The notes disjointed and erroneous as they sliced upon the relative sullenness of the penthouse suite. Kyungsoo screwed his eyes shut and cringed as he reacquainted himself with what he considers his first love, his tragic muse. Seconds later, the cacophony of melodic noise transitioned into soft, calming tones as the piano sang Debussy's Clair de Lune. Kyungsoo's fingers danced upon white and teased upon black producing the arresting melody of the famed musical piece.   
  
Kyungsoo was not particularly sure how long he sat before the piano and played.  His eyes were focused upon the keys as they transitioned from one note to the next. He played Debussy and Bach to his heart's utter content and let the prepossessing feeling control him. It's been years and all his pent up desires, the unsaid wants and the ever present needs became music. Kyungsoo channeled everything upon the piano until he hit a wrong cord. The rhythm broke into discordant noise and he had to force himself to stop. Kyungsoo leaned against the instrument with eyes closed and forced the rapid beating of his heart to calm down.   
  
It's Jongin's touch that derailed Kyungsoo out of his daze. He stared at Jongin through half shut eyes and exhaled as the younger man's touch electrified his skin.   
  
"I didn't know you can play." Jongin muttered. Kyungsoo simply nodded "It's not much. I stopped after my parents died. They were really the only ones who encouraged me to pursue music. It was pointless to continue after I lost them."   
  
Jongin hummed as he placed his fingers upon the keys and played an off tune rendition of Fur Elise, chuckling as he raised his finger off the keys, "You should continue hyung, not everyone can play like you do."   
  
It's a long minute before Kyungsoo managed an answer. His eyes were drawn to Jongin's warm tawny skin against the bright ivory of the keys and Kyungsoo wanted to lean down and place Jongin's knuckles under his lips. He averted his gaze and looked up. Kyungsoo realized that Jongin's stare is as unobtrusive as his whole being. It's a warm, open expression tinged with a sadness that seemed to be always there. Kyungsoo's breath hitched, the comeback he'd prepared ultimately dying on his lips as Jongin's face invade his waking thoughts. They're so close and Kyungsoo badly wanted to claim something that wasn't his.   
  
Kyungsoo has always been weak when it came to Jongin, and so he succumbed.   
  
Kyungsoo stood up and pressed Jongin against the piano. One of his palm flies to the back of Jongin's neck ,the other, braced against the closed lid of the instrument. Kyungsoo leaned forward and took Jongin's lips or himself. Jongin's lips were chapped and unmoving and the younger tasted like artificial orange juice and something that was just distinctly Jongin.   
  
Kyungsoo was selfish and Jongin hadn't stopped him.  
  
It's not long before the affair is taken somewhere else, Kyungsoo's need  and desperation evident upon the clothing that forms a trail to the bedroom. It's Jongin's back that meets the bed this time and he is so fucking beautiful it's devastating.  
  
And  Kyungsoo just forgot.   
  
For a moment, Kyungsoo forgets what he is, forgets who Jongin is, forgets what they are. He felt out of sync as he kissed every inch of Jongin's body with reverent adoration, he did not know he possesses. He pressed his lips against Jongin's again and again and claimed him entirely.   
  
Jongin caved with every thrust, every slap against skin.   Kyungsoo could feel Jongin's  teeth biting against the skin of his shoulder, muffling his moans. Jongin's nails dug against Kyungsoo's flesh as Kyungsoo broke him piece by piece and put him back together.  
  
And every time Kyungsoo glanced at Jongin, he unraveled. He badly wanted to tell Jongin that he'd fallen so deeply he can't climb his way back, Kyungsoo wanted to confess that he loved him so much, it aches.  
  
Kyungsoo loved Jongin. Jongin who's so near yet seemingly untouchable, Jongin who's too beautiful for someone like Kyungsoo, Jongin who's heart belonged to someone else.  Jongin, Jongin, Jongin.   
  
When it's over, Kyungsoo slumped forward pressing his body against Jongin, his pulse racing. "Stay." Jongin murmured as he wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo's body. "Please stay." He sounded so incredibly vulnerable and Kyungsoo loathed to have let go but he was selfish.   
  
Kyungsoo waited until the other had fallen asleep. He sat upright on the bed, head cradled in his hands and mentally cried over his indecision. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out why Jongin had allowed it to happen.  
  
Kyungsoo's head ached.   
  
He glanced at Jongin and pressed a kiss upon his naked shoulder blade and left.  He left because he couldn't stomach what he'd done, because the numbing pain was too unbearable and he'd rather feel emptiness than this torture.   
  
It's pathetic because at the end of the day, no matter what happened and in which circumstance it happened, we can never force anyone to love us back. Kyungsoo can delude himself but reality will slap him on the face time and time again. Kyungsoo is a glorified prostitute and Jongin had needed a distraction. They were two mismatched people who happened to  be at the right place at the right time. And at the end of the day, it's Kyungsoo that loses because he'd allowed himself to fall for someone who was never going to catch him. 

//  
  
  
It's avoidance that follows.   
  
The next few days after the incident, Kyungsoo half disappears. Managing to blend amongst the employees of Skyline while he completed his recording sessions with Baekhyun was not a glib task.  The original plan to feature anonymously for Baekhyun's carrier single had also been trashed since Chanyeol had managed to coerce him to sing for the whole EP instead. Baekhyun looked positively thrilled at the idea and since Jongin still had two whole weeks on him before his one-month contract eventually expires, Kyungsoo could do nothing but agree. Thankfully, Jongin has been whisked away by Taemin and Irene's duet album and if he noticed that Kyungsoo had been evading him like he carried the plague, Jongin didn't let it show.   
  
  
It's all nice and dandy. Kyungsoo lets himself get sucked into Chanyeol's recording sessions, lets Baekhyun distract him with entertaining anecdotes. The lack of Jongin's presence is pressure taken away from his lungs yet thorns wrapped around his heart.   
  
It's all nice and dandy until he finds a horribly familiar face leaning over Chanyeol's synthesizers. Kyungsoo's throat clogged and yet his face immediately pulls out its impassive mask. He stared at the man who simply smirked at him like he was inviting Kyungsoo to gouge his eyes out with his bare fingers.   
  
"I didn't know you offer your services to Skyline now Kyungsoo ssi. You should have told me, I missed you."   
  


__

 

Junhee stared at her face on the mirror and wondered why she couldn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. She looked…plain. Junhee was far from a plain woman, she liked her dresses in bold colors and borderline daring, she believed in her beauty but red lipstick and some mascara never hurt anybody, she wore jewelry that was extravagant yet tasteful.

And yet her reflection was far from that, her reflection reminded her of the woman she fought so hard to break out off. The woman had on an off-white dress, A-cut, simple and conservative down to a science. She wore lip balm, and the only semblance of jewelry she had on her being was a simple beaded bracelet. The reflection reminded her of a woman who always craved for her mother’s approval like a starved dog. Junhee chuckled darkly, twenty-seven years later and she’s never changed. She was and still is the same woman who’ll do everything to gain approval from someone’s who’s rejected her a long, long time ago.

In a moment of brief weakness, Junhee wanted to call the whole thing off. But she’s already cancelled twice on her parents’ invitation to dinner; she wasn’t ready to face her adoptive mother just yet. She felt pathetic in her cowardice.

The doorbell to her humble unit went off. Junhee goes down to answer the door and she’s more than glad to see her boyfriend standing on the doorway. There’s a smile on Yifan’s lips and he looked handsome in his dark blue button down and slacks. Seeing the man gave her courage, and so she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Yifan’s torso, pressing her nose against the man’s chest and inhaling his scent. Yifan immediately returns the embrace. “Hey, I missed you.”

Junhee smiled as she pulled back. _I missed you too, more than I’d like to admit._

 

“You look lovely by the way.”

Junhee chuckled, pulling the seatbelt across her chest and snapping it in place. “I’m glad that I’ve finally become your standard for beauty. I’m quite flattered.” They both chuckle at her words.

“Technically, you’ve become my standard for everything Jun.” Yifan says, “You’re irreplaceable.”

A red flush steadily blooms on her cheeks at the offhanded question. “God, have you always been this embarrassing?”

“Only when it’s you, love.”

Junhee sighed but the pleased smile on her lips was entirely something else.

As Yifan finally eased on the highway, he takes Junhee’s hand in his and clasped their fingers together. He pressed a kiss to the woman’s knuckles and murmured. “I love you.” almost unconsciously. Junhee doesn’t answer but she squeezes back and lets him hold her hand. She needed the quiet encouragement for the rest of the night.

 

It’s the face of her half-brother that welcomes her home. Sehun’s grin is wide, stepping forward to trap his sister in an affectionate embrace. “I missed you so much noona!”

Junhee pulls back to ruffle the younger’s hair with an indulgent grin on her face. “I missed you too my Sehunnie.”

Sehun frowns. Her younger brother is already twenty-four years old and yet she still saw him as her bratty little brother.

The younger sibling narrowed his eyes when Yifan stepped into the threshold. He looped a protective arm around Junhee’s waist and pulled her closer. “You’re always with this person.”

Yifan laughed and ruffled Sehun’s already messed up hair. “It’s good to see you too Sehun and as you’ve noticed your sister is perfectly fine with me.”

“I’ll trust you with anything but my sister Yifan.”

“That’s Yifan ge to you Oh Sehun.”

Junhee shook her head and swatted Sehun’s arm off her waist. “Stop it guys.”

The three of them, after more bantering on the doorway, finally move into the sitting room. Junhee respectfully greeted her father as the old man embraced her. “Hi dad.” The man smiled at his daughter and then to Yifan who respectfully bowed to his girlfriend’s father. “It’s good to see you again uncle Sejun.”

The old man chuckled. “So, it’s the two of you, huh? When’s the wedding?”

Yifan considerably colored. “We’re taking it slow uncle, but don’t worry I’m taking care of your daughter.”

“I’m quite sure my daughter doesn’t need anyone to take care of her but in any case, I’m glad it’s you Yifan. Anyway, let’s go have dinner.”

Junhee let the old man walk forward before she’s grasping Yifan’s palm. Yifan glanced at her, a brow raising in silent inquiry. Junhee shook her head before she’s following her father to the house’s elaborate dining room.

Lee Miran, Sehun’s mother, was already seated before the dining table idly checking the dishes laid on the long oak table. There’s a smile on her painted lips, her dark eyes silently appraising Junhee in a discreet once over.

Junhee never failed to notice.

“Hello, mother.” She greets and the woman merely nods and ushers her husband and Sehun to sit. Junhee takes her seat across Sehun quietly. She doesn’t let the silent rejection be a blow as she’d decided to make most of their so-called family dinner for Yifan’s sake.

“Good evening, auntie Miran.” Yifan greets rather amicably. Junhee hopes Yifan wouldn’t notice the rather frigid atmosphere between her and her mother. She remained calmly seated and forced to control the polite smile on her lips.

The dinner progresses alright as far as Junhee is concerned and the topic of conversation never even breached her. They talk about Yifan’s career as music producer and his parents. Yifan would answer in short polite sentences and didn’t add things that would have lengthened the conversation about him.  

“Sehun’s CEO of KSent now.” The matriarch suddenly quipped.

Sehun shook his head, “I’m not. Just trying to get a feel on the reins before I really put it out there. It’s not much, eomma.” Sehun turned to his sister, “Anyway, how’s your firm going noona?”

Junhee smiled at her brother. “Nothing’s changed Sehun.” She keeps the answer concise because that’s always been a household rule. Junhee doesn’t get to explain nor elaborate, as she never even had that right in the first place. Junhee’s used to it after long, grueling years of tension wrought family dinners, this is child’s play.

“It’s been three years and you are still working with people who never do anything right. When will you finally move here and be someone who carries the family name with pride?”

“I’m fine with where I am and what I’m doing, mother. Sehun can be your perfect son, it’s all too late for me after all.”

Predictably, the occupants of the table go silent. Junhee can feel their gazes on her and it felt like something heavy was pressing on her lungs, under the table, Yifan grabbed her hand and gently slotted their fingers together. She took a steady inhale and never relinquished her hold until the end of the uncomfortable dinner.

she never wanted to be here but she tries anyway and she gets rejected every time. But she tries and tries and never stops hoping that maybe one day, she’s going to be the child her adoptive mother wanted and not a breathing reminder of her husband’s affair. When Junhee looked at the mirror the abnormal gray in her right eye would be a stark difference against her unassuming hazel irises and it constantly reminded her that she didn’t belong and will never belong in, a family which her biological mother had irrevocably ruined.

The thought used to make her despair, but she’s been rejected for more than half of her lifetime it didn’t really matter anymore.

But sometimes,

Sometimes it hurts.

 

//

Yifan wasn’t clueless. He knew that mothers and daughters would always have their usual arguments and misunderstandings but it was more than apparent that Junhee had more than a misunderstanding going on with her mother. After the dinner, Junhee completely shut down, she didn’t even glance at him throughout the long drive back and it unsettled Yifan.

It’s nearing midnight when he dropped her off. Junhee gave him a small tired smile and a wordless good night before she’s moving out of his vehicle in almost haste. Yifan couldn’t even utter his goodbyes.

The man stared at Junhee’s retreating form and pointed out that something was definitely, not alright. It’s a phone call from Sehun that solidifies the assumption.

_“She can handle herself but dinner with our parents always unsettles her. Just look after her, ge. Please. She’s a strong woman but evidently, all strong people would still need someone and I guess I should trust you enough to do that for her.”_

With newfound purpose, Yifan drives to the nearest fast food joint for some fried chicken and beer before he detoured. He rings the bell to her flat and it’s almost five minutes later when Junhee opens the door with surprise in her face. He grinned at her, brandishing the dark plastic bags. “Wanna drink beer?”

She chuckled and coaxed him in.

They eat chicken in the kitchen, their beer cheap and cold. There’s laughter in between but Yifan’s doing all the talking, trying to get the happiness back on her face. It wasn’t working.

They’re tipsy, probably. Yifan could taste the beer in his tongue and her sadness seemed to permeate the place like a brewing storm cloud.

“You’re aware that I’m new to relationships.” Yifan suddenly says before he could think things through, “I’m not sure as to what I should be doing… and I know that something’s bothering you. I’m not forcing you to talk, but whenever you need someone, something. I’m here and I will listen.”

It seems like a lifetime had passed before Junhee finally answers.

“My father came to France twenty-eight years ago and when he came back, he brought me with him.”

Silence.

“I was five, and he said I looked like my mother. I was happy because I’ve never met my mother and I thought that after so long, I’ll finally see her. But when I did, I realized that my father lied. I didn’t look anything like the woman she introduced me to. I had deep auburn hair, she had black. I have mismatched hazel and gray irises, and yet her eyes were both the warmest shade of brown.” Junhee sighed and she looked at him with her multicolored eyes, unshed tears brimming. “I wanted to call her mommy, but then she stared at me and you know what she told me Fan? She told me, _You’re not my daughter.”_

“But even after everything, Sehun’s mother took me under her wing, clothed me, fed me, educated me all out of obligation - because I was her husband’s illegitimate daughter. And as the years went by, I’ve learned to love her as my mother. I grew selfish. I wanted her to love me like her child too. But she couldn’t do that because I am the product of her husband’s greatest sin, I am someone who indirectly ruined her family. And no matter what I do, no matter what I accomplish in life, I’d never be rid of that presumption. I’ll always be the daughter that didn’t exist, I’ll be the daughter that carried neither of my parents’ family name.”

 “You know why you’ve never heard of me? Because I’m my family’s dirty secret.”

Junhee chuckled and the sound grated at Yifan’s ears. “It’s almost funny because it’s been years and I’m still begging for the littlest of her affections, like a fucking dog going after scraps. I’m still that five-year-old girl who wanted her mother’s love. I know she’ll never see anything in me and yet I try, again and again and again. It’s tiring Yifan, I’m tired.”

Apparently, the situation didn’t need empty words of comfort from Yifan so he listened because sometimes, all people need is someone who’d listen.

The woman leaned against his shoulder and Yifan didn’t need any prompting to grab her hand and entwine their fingers. “I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to just… unload everything. Thank you, Fan.”

Yifan smiled and kissed the top of her head. “And I love you, Kim Junhee, no matter what.”

**//**

Everything was going so well for Yifan.

His universe finally recognized its own chaotic spheres and has made a move to right itself. For the first time in his life he’s finally seeing a semblance of balance and normalcy. It sounded mundane but maybe that was what Yifan had needed in the first place; his head was suffocating in clouds and someone had graciously pulled him down. It’s wonderful. It should’ve been frightful to fall so easily, to become bait to your own emotions, it didn’t matter. Yifan’s walked through a precarious vantage but he didn’t mind, he was enjoying the journey.

It’s been truly wonderful and Yifan could’ve went on forever and then came the crash.

Junhee’s palm was still warm in his hold and her smile didn’t warn Yifan of the way she would pull out his heart and tear it to shreds.

Maybe Yifan should have known that they weren’t meant to last. After all, most wonderful things are often always temporary. And what he had with Junhee was more than wonderful, it made Yifan believe that there’s a god out there who must have realigned the universe and caused him to meet her. But deities were cruel, they would dangle something you cared for –more than your life – right before your eyes and yet always out of reach.

And the universe wouldn’t realign itself for Yifan this time.

He had plans. They would marry, have children. She would continue to design her buildings and care for cancer patients and he would continue to produce music. But all of this, they would do as a unit. They’d be something concrete, a relationship sanctified before god and recognized by society. They would be family.

But Yifan had forgotten one thing. Yifan had forgotten the fact that Junhee didn’t love him.

All it took was a mere invitation.

“Skyline’s having a company gala next month. Wanna be my date?”

Yifan never would have been ready for her answer.

“Oh,” the woman sounded genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry, Fan but I can’t.”

“It’s okay if you can’t. Are you going with Sehun then?”

Junhee looked genuinely confused at the question. “No, I’m going back to France next week Yifan. Didn’t I mention it?”

Yifan laughed it off, because he didn’t want to believe her. “But you’re coming back, right?”

Junhee shrugged, a wistful smile painted on her lips. “I don’t know Yifan. My life’s never been here. I was born in France, I’ve lived in France since I was eighteen, I built my life in France. There’s nothing tying me here.”

_There’s nothing tying me here._

Yifan didn’t know which hurt more, Junhee leaving or the fact that she’s never even considered his numerous confessions of love as anything. Yifan’s affections weren’t even a spectral of that reason she needed, to stay.  Yifan felt like he’d been backhanded.

“Yifan?”

Yifan couldn’t even look her in the eye without wanting to beg. _Please, stay, stay, stay._ He wanted to tell her but he wasn’t selfish. She had her dreams, her life in a place so far out of his reach. He wouldn’t be someone who separated her from her dreams, from that life.

Sometimes love just wasn’t enough.

It should be okay. Yifan’s finally had a taste of something that had evaded him for as long as he could remember and if it all boiled down to letting go, then Yifan would, gladly.

“Yes,” He begins to tell her, “You mentioned. I just wasn’t sure when. So, France huh, that’s halfway across the globe.”

She smiled at him, “It’s home Yifan.”

_Yes home._

Yifan didn’t realize how good he was at masking emotions until now. He realized he’s something else when he can still smile and laugh even if he felt like someone was shredding his heart into pieces, dragging the process out mercilessly.

Fuck, never has anything hurt so damn much.

 

 


End file.
